Till Death Do Us Part I
by lanya-celebrian
Summary: One year, Two Mysteries, Three Truths, Four Friends. Hogwarts, 1971.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Good to see everyone again :). It's been a while since I ever did _anything_ Harry Potter related in fiction. I feel exceptionally guilty about not seeing my first Marauder's fic to the end, but I've decided to write it anew. A new start, shall we say? I've had the first three chapters already beta'd, so I have no qualms about posting this up now. Hopefully, everyone won't be too upset with me about the other fanfic... I appreciated all of the reviews and alerts. I'll do my best to satisfy you with this version. I hope you enjoy it!

****EDIT! (12/15/08): **I added an extra paragraph to the ending thanks to Pyro who pointed it out to me. I really felt cut to me for a chapter ending, but no one mentioned a thing to me. So I'd like to say thanks :)! I hope that's a little better now. Just a little xD. The reason it was cut to begin with was because I split one chapter into four. Chapter one turned out to be thirty pages long so I just cut it and posted part 1 without editting the ending. Thanks for prompting me to edit.

****SUPER EDIT! (6/15/11):** Woaaahhh! It's been years. Quite literally. And in celebration of the Harry Potter world finally coming to a close next month, I've come to a decision that I will pick up and finish this story once more. In order to do this, however, I must reedit for your reading pleasure. So I hope you can deal with this revamped chapter one once again. I will be uploading the next couple chapters after I've finished editting them. So, I hope you're not all _too_ mad at me. Much love everyone!

* * *

A Beginning's Beginning

It was late in the year 1971. Summer had once again come and gone just as it always had. Typical year. Nothing too dramatic. Another war had started, of course, and the topic seemed to have become quite popular among the most auspicious of gossipers. It was a rather typical day, too, with a cloudless sky and September winds that were beginning to blow in more often than the weeks before. It happened to be the first day of the last week in August, and the day seemed perfectly normal. Strangely enough, however, 'perfectly normal' probably wouldn't be what eleven-year-old, James Potter, would call it.

James sat in the backyard of his house, leaning leisurely against a twenty-four-generations old elm tree, with his arms relaxed behind his head. His gentle hazel eyes stared out from behind his glasses and towards the horizon. The wind swept over him every so often, breezing through his dark hair and causing it to grow even messier than it already was. Oddly enough, his hair was naturally messy, and literally impossible to groom no matter what anyone did to it. The most annoying part about it, he found, was that it had a knack for wanting sticking up in the back. The messy-haired boy often caught himself angrily trying combing it down, with no avail.

Aside from his oddly stubborn hair, his attire appeared quite different from what one would normally see in one's average neighborhood. Then again, neither James nor anyone in his family lived in your average neighborhood, resulting in his getup fitting right in with what his neighbors wore. He, like most, wore a cloak (his being dark violet) that was sloppily tied about his neck and drooped down to his ankles. Beneath the cloak hid some rather simple clothes despite his family's fortunes: typical but very simplistic black dress pants and an off-white shirt. Everything he wore wasn't mandatory—save for the cloak. The cloak, explained his mother over tea, is an item to be worn at _all_ times. It's only befitting of wizards, of course. He had to look presentable among his peers even if he didn't want to. He carried with him a heavy name on his shoulders…the Potters.

The Potters came from a long line of wizards and witches. Not a single bit of 'tainted' blood ran through their veins. Their blood was the purest of pure—not a single non-magic inherited person—no _muggle_—plagued their line of generations. James, along with his parents, was considered pure blood: a name only reserved to the few remaining families who hadn't interbred with the non-magic kind. It was a rather significant title for many. One should be proud to be part of such a lineage! But for James, he found it to be somewhat insulting and racist towards other people—to the majority of the Wizarding World living today. James didn't really care what he was, the boy just wanted to enjoy everything around him. James did have to admit that being pure blood had many advantages, but that didn't mean he'd become a snob because of it. Sure, they were wealthy and he was thankful for it. They were happy, and that's all he cared about.

With a sigh, he stared up at the brilliant blue sky above him. He was dazed, thinking, but about nothing in particular. Not really thinking about anything, but still thinking nonetheless. Something seemed amiss in his heart; he didn't understand what this feeling was. Nothing too dramatic had happened in his life, but his heart felt abandoned. This wasn't the first time he experienced this feeling. Although dreams were rare for James, every time they occurred, it would always be about something horrifying.

This particular dream occurred just the previous night. It made him shudder just thinking about it; it was by far the worst blow he had felt in a long time. Within the dream there had been an unbearable, high-pitched scream of someone he knew to be dear to him, which was mixed with the evil laughter of betrayal, and then a sudden flash of green light. Although much of the dream was blacked out in darkness, as though someone had turned off the lights, it still left him feeling rather shaken. It felt so real. It even continued to haunt him a long after he sat up in his bed, with tears rolling and sweat dripping from his pale face.

Did it mean something important? Something he should know or be aware of?

"James!"

The boy shook his head out of the daze and rumpled his black hair, unconsciously making it stick up even more so.

"What is it, Mum?" he called out, lazily. "It wasn't me who hexed the toilet, if that's what you're asking."

"No—" his mother began, stopping mid-sentence when James' words hit her. "You did _what_ to the toilet?"

"I was just trying to make it flush automatically," he mumbled, sitting up. "…Is it my fault I have nothing to do?"

His mother walked toward him, looking neither angry nor entirely happy. Her black hair was tied back with a ruby red barrette, and she wore a nice white blouse with a black skirt and dark overcoat. She had just come from a meeting, which explained her business-like clothing. She looked like a professor, her stern expression giving off the appropriate qualifications. Other than that, she was pretty. But as she wistfully strode toward her son, such sternness faded with every step she took.

Mrs. Dorea Potter knew for a fact that it was almost impossible to stay angry with someone as witty as James for long. He was her only son. A son she was very proud to have.

"Always at it, aren't you, James?" she inquired, right eyebrow cocking upward in question.

The boy simply beamed at his mother innocently in response. Mrs. Potter merely shrugged her shoulders then helped him to his feet. Once on his feet, the lady was quick to spot a few grass stains and odd ruffles here and there. She simply corrected them with a flick of the wand she held.

Once she had that settled she continued, "Now, shouldn't you be at Diagon Alley collecting your items? I gave you the money this morning. Why haven't you gone yet? I've already shown you around London—and much of the world, for that matter—so don't give me the excuse that you don't know how to get there. You told me yourself just last year that when you went to get you materials for school, you wanted to go on your own!" She took a breath, face looking completely exasperated, "_Now_ look at you, I don't even know if I should let you go to Hogwarts at all! I can probably persuade you're father to postpone—"

"Sure. Go ahead. What's the point in going anyway?" James droned, completely unimpressed.

His mother stared, in utter disbelief, "W-What's the point?" she gapped, "You've been excited to go to Hogwarts since—since—the day you heard about it! What do you mean 'what's the point?' What in all the Wizarding World has happened to my son…!"

"Quit it, mum, _really_. Don't tell me you didn't see it."

"It? I have seen nothing of particular interest. What are you talking about, James?"

"C'mon what else could it be…?" interjected her son, throwing up his hands in aggravation. "It even came with the bloody letter—! _Oh_ never the mind, I'll just show you!" He shoved a hand into his front pocket and retrieved a messily folded piece of parchment.

Mrs. Potter stared quizzically as she watched James unfold it, catching a small glimpse of the Hogwarts School seal at the top of letter. Once pressed, the messy-haired boy handed it over to her. His expression was hard to read. She took it into her hands and read through from the Introduction letter to the list of school supplies on the second page about four times, but nothing seemed to be wrong with it. She looked up at James, her face full of confusion.

"Well, did you see it?" he asked again, rumpling his hair in a lazy fashion.

"Actually… I didn't see anything wrong with it."

James stared back, rather stunned. He quickly grabbed the parchment and skimmed through it. In no time at all, he found what he was looking for and pointed harshly at a sentence at the bottom of the list of things the average student needed to buy. It read:

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

Mrs. Potter scratched the tip of her nose trying to hide the obvious grin that had found its way on her lips. James fumed with internal rage. Restrictions on having broomsticks meant one thing: No Quidditch action would be happening that year. At least, he wouldn't be the one flying around, getting all the glory, or feeling the brisk wind against his face. It was his stress reliever. It was his secret getaway. It was the sport of all sports that James Potter loved the most. Life without Quidditch to Potter was like… a dog without its favorite bone, a rainbow with no pot of gold, or a musician without ears…

He sighed hopelessly attempting to pull out the portion of his hair the stuck up the most.

"James, I'm sure you'll at least get to watch them play." Mrs. Potter tried to sound at least a little bit reassuring to her depressed son.

"_Watch_ it? That's nothing compared to _playing_ it!" he wailed in protest. "C'mon mum! You should know your own son by now…bloody he—!"

"Watch your tongue!" she snapped fiercely, then lightened her expression, "Don't worry, you'll have a chance on a broom. They're just going to teach you the basics this year; like how to fly. You'll get to play next year, just like your father did."

"B-but I already _know_ how to fly!" he whined.

"There are boys who don't know how… Don't be so selfish, James."

Although Mrs. Potter had put a great deal of effort into calming him, it was no use. The boy just continued to fume angrily, cursing under his breath as he paced about. His mother had to quite literally pull her son out of this trance and toward the house. She had had about enough of his pointless whining, and Diagon Alley was still waiting for him!

Upon barging their way through the front door, the first room they entered happened to be the all-important living room. Their living room was none like you would ever see in your everyday house—everyday _Muggle_ house, anyway. At every turn was another surprise, a house full of life. A house full of magic. Just by looking around, one could see various pictures that hung upon the whitewashed walls. Each photo recalled an important memory from the past; it served almost as a portal.

Along one side of the room was a rather large shelf filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books each seeming to be very much alive. An odd arrangement of titles such as Cymbals and Chimes: Rubric to Educational Wizardry by Jane Houton and The People of Mer by Findwilas Tindolum glowed brightly as James stumbled passed. These books grew up with the boy, and had grown particularly attached to him. Their faint glow was a way of showing this affection whenever he walked by. The messy-haired boy, in turn, would nod approvingly to them; they were his best friends no matter what the occasion.

Having grown up in this kind of environment, James didn't feel amazed by these peculiar instances; it was just a part of an everyday Wizarding life—nothing _completely_ out of the ordinary.

The messy-haired boy and his seemingly annoyed mother continued passed the living room and toward the old brick fireplace in the next room. Mrs. Potter wasted no time with explanations. She immediately reached up from the nearby shelf and brought down a small box filled with what looked to be a grayish sand or powder of sorts.

After a glance at the neatly decorated red box cupped between his mother's left hand, James unmistakably knew what was inside: Floo Powder. It was one of the most annoying and uncomfortable ways to travel around, or at least that's what he always knew that cursed powder to be. It had the capability of giving even the strongest wizards a severe migraine. Even so, it was still considered the fastest and most efficient way for an eleven-year-old to get to London and back before supper.

"Well, off you be then," said she, tossing the powder into the fireplace. "I'll come by to pick you up at eight o'clock sharp, understand? That should give you enough time to get what you need, eat, and fool around as much as you want. Just—Just stray from blowing anything up, okay?" James smirked guiltily, but nodded his head in agreement. "Now, where is it we are to meet?"

The fireplace, by now, was filled with greenish flames that were burning quite brightly and rather strongly. James heaved the most exaggerated sigh. "Leaky Cauldron. I _know_, mum. You need not worry yourself 'bout me. I'll be a good ol' boy. I _promise_."

"Well, you ought to be! And don't give me that promising gag, you take right after your father, you do. Can't trust him at all either!" she exclaimed, with a warm smile upon her face. "Go on. Shoo. I've got plenty of things to do here as it is."

James laughed. So that's where he got his witty personality! It was one of the traits he shared with her, and it was also one of the traits he loved about her. His father he also took great pride in, not only in assuredness, but also in strength and ability. He wouldn't trade this family for even the most beautiful woman in the world…

With a small kiss on the cheek to his mother, the boy walked into the flame, and exclaimed, "Diagon Alley" with precise clearness, and allowed the swirling green to engulf him completely. Within seconds, James had vanished completely—not a trace left in sight.

It was only after he had gone that Mrs. Potter's warm, comforting face wrinkled into one of worry. An eerie chill seemed to creep through her as she watched the green flames die down. Mrs. Potter wasn't one to get sudden chills, but whenever she did…it always meant bad news. Then again it was the first time she let her son go out by himself. Perhaps it's just a mother's worry.

"I hope these fears are just my imagination," his mother muttered to herself. "With all those murder stories going around in the _Daily Prophet_ these days, anywhere is unsafe."

* * *

After several minutes of what felt like tossing, turning, tumbling, sliding, shaking, and whatever other motions imaginable, James came to a complete stop in some other chimney in… _Diagon Alley, I hope,_ thought the boy bitterly.

He had his eyes shut, and upon opening them was surprised to see he was no longer amongst the green flames. In fact, he was surprised to find that he was standing in a fireplace ten times the size of the one he had just walked into and that alone was a pretty good-sized fireplace. The one he stood in now was completely over doing the term 'gigantic'! _Good for the entire family line,_ he thought with a twist of humor and distaste_, four generations, more like it_. Transportation by Floo Powder was popular around these parts, but that didn't mean James liked it. It often gave him a weird woozy feeling in both the head and the stomach, of which he felt unkindly disturbed.

Taking his attention away from spaciousness of the fireplace, James pulled out the Hogwart's supplies list along with his map of Diagon Alley. The messy-haired boy had stayed up late the night before scribbling all over the map with things to do and where to explore other than just the place needed for school shopping. It was a boy's first day of freedom, after all, and James wanted to use every last bit of his time to his advantage.

"_Gambol & Japes_…" James whispered to himself in an airy tone as he traced his finger around the scribble marks he made, unable to contain the wide grin spreading across his face like a wildfire. "Brilliant! Best day of my life, I can feel it—!"

"Wha' you doon in der, kid?" screeched the voice of an old hunchback man, poking his head into the spacious room. The fireplace may have been big on the inside, but the doorway was mighty small. James hardly noticed the line of people standing outside waiting for him to come out, "Getz ou' of der! Keep za line movin'!" growled the man, taking James by the collar and dragging him out of chimney, snapping him out of his fantasies.

James, who had been completely caught off guard, stumbled out of the fireplace, barely able to catch his balance before hitting the floor. Both pieces of parchment flew from his hands as he struggled to regain his footing.

"Why, of all the bloody—" stammered the messy-haired boy, just managing to stop himself from saying something he would regret dearly, "—S-sorry, Sir," he said, bowing toward the hunchbacked man, finally regaining his composure. He then turned to the other ladies and gentlemen waiting in line, all of which were staring questionably at him. "Forgive me, gentlemen, ladies, I did not mean to keep you from your destinations. M-my mind's been at a loss, you see…" James paused and heaved a sorrowful sigh, "…after my f-father passed away. Nothing's been quite the same at home…" He faked a sniff and dramatically wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

They all fell for the act hook-line-and-sinker. Several of the women, looked pitifully at James. A few of them even gave him words of encouragement while he himself smiled weakly, pretending to look as though he were in pain. The gentlemen, on the other hand, diverted their attention away from him and back at the line; they did not wish to make the child cry for his papa. James knew well enough not to make a fool out of himself in public. He had taught himself the art of attention grabbing, throwing in whatever remarked seemed to suit the situation. Ever since he learned his first words, lying became somewhat of a second nature to him. He would tell you that he's mastered it, but there were a few (exceptionally few) times where he was caught in the act.

With the last words of gratitude, he turned his back to the crowd, and with a low snicker, headed toward the door. He had over stayed his welcome in this retched house, and found no intention of staying any longer. He stalked triumphantly through the other groups of people standing around idly waiting for their companions to arrive. This was his moment of glory, the attention he had gathered from the women in line set his self esteem straight through the roof—nothing could possibly get him down. Everything was definitely going the way he wanted it, that was, until he reached the door:

"Excuse me," said a voice from behind him. It was the voice of a girl.

_Another one of my adoring fans, perhaps?_ thought James with a laugh, spinning around he replied. "Huh? What can I do for you, Miss?"

The girl jolted back as he dramatically swung himself around to see her. His messy-hair seemed to swing about playfully as his head turned; many girls might find this feature to be attractive, but instead, this girl found it to be rather played out. After all, the boy seemed a bit too lively for a child whose father just passed away.

"I believe you dropped these," she sputtered, eyeing him with great suspicion.

The messy-haired boy caught the hint by the tone in her voice, and immediately realized his antics would not be able to save him this time. She was just about his height with strikingly deep, thick red hair that he had never seen on a person before. He didn't know whether to stare in awe or shield his eyes for the color was so true to its name that he'd be able to pick it out in a crowd of one million people. Although there was nothing _extremely_ appealing about her appearance, James found himself staring at her for a fairly long time.

James, of course, was interested in girls, but he wasn't at all looking forward to a relationship of any type. This red-head that stood before him, however, had an odd effect on him; it was neither an immediate attachment nor immediate dislike that he felt for her. There was just something about this girl that was odd… _Her eyes,_ he thought, _what enchanting emerald eyes she has. Where have I seen—?_

"H-hey, you all right?" she asked, looking a bit uncomfortable now.

James started. "Yeah—sure—fine," he muttered, looking away from her. "Sorry, what was it you were saying?"

She seemed bewildered at his response. "I was just saying that maybe you dropped these…? They sort of flew at me from your direction."

The boy looked down at the two pieces of parchment that were in her hand, "Oh!" he gasped, an embarrassed look forming on his face. "Must've been when the ol' hunchback threw me. Did they hit you? I'm awfully sorry if they got in your way. Ah—Didn't mean it, you know, heh."

"It's fine," she replied shortly, tossing her red hair to one side. "Just be careful next time. You wouldn't want to go losing your supply sheet."

He mechanically took the papers from her, but just before he could thank her, someone called out from the far end of the room: "Next, number 23.415.6XXII, Evans, Lily to Muggle district—Spinner's End!" It was the hunchback man. James tried his best to suppress a laugh; _so he's the chimney caretaker, is he?_ Just as he was about to interject something to the girl he had been conversing with, he stopped short. She seemed somewhat nerved now, as though not knowing what to say or do.

"C-coming!" she—Evans—called back, "Goodness, I really need to get used to this…Forgive me, Mr.—"

"Potter."

"—Mr. Potter. I can't stay and chat—sorry—by the way you have a large smudge on your glasses that you might want to clean off—See you at Hogwarts!"

She said all this in one slurred breath. It took a few seconds before James could process what she was had just spoken before she dashed away toward the fireplace. He scratched his head. What's with that girl? _She was a strange one,_ he thought with a shrug, _and she's going to Hogwarts too? Should I be happy about this…?_ Shaking his head, he shoved the thought into the back of his mind. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about worthless things. With that in mind, he walked out through the door and onto the large Diagon Alley Street.

James took a gander and looked about the place with great interest. It was the first time going there by himself and he was free to do as he pleased. James had the whole day planned out—all the shops he'd go to, what he'd get, and what he would eat. The messy-haired boy wasn't one to go out unprepared.

He walked about the streets a bit careful of running into people, things, and creatures that roamed about aimlessly; he didn't want to get into any trouble. At certain parts of the streets there were crowds of people that nearly made it impossible for James to get through. Upon squeezing his way out of what seemed to be yet another large crowd, he stepped to the side of the road and sat upon an old rickety wooden bench furthest away from the street. James took the time to pull out his list of things to get from Hogwarts and scanned each item.

"Hmm… Let's see…" James mumbled to himself as he read under the 'Uniform' section. "Three sets of black plain work robes… One black plain pointed hat… One pair of protected gloves, the dragons hide kind… and lastly, one black winter cloak. Is it me or is Black a Hogwarts trend…?"

"Maybe it's just you," interrupted a rather charming voice from over his shoulder. "What is it you want? I over heard you murmur a name of my kin… is there a problem?"

James quickly spun around, surprised by the voice. He had not heard nor seen anyone sneak up behind him. When he finally found the source of the voice, his hazel eyes came in contact with a young boy who looked just about his age. This boy was extremely good-looking, with gray eyes and black hair, which fell just below his brows. The boy must have come from a very aristocratic family because of the rather expensive looking clothes he wore. Despite his sudden appearance, the boy's cheerful expression and tone of voice seemed to tell James that he wasn't that bad of a stranger.

There was an odd, immediate connection between the two, which only they could have possibly comprehended at that moment.

"I…don't think I called your name," James sputtered. "Unless, of course, your name is Dragon Hide."

The other boy laughed a bit before extending his hand in an act of friendship.

"No, 'course not!" the boy said smiling. "You said 'Black' right?" James nodded. "Well, the name's Black. I'm Sirius Black."

They shook one another's hand, both grinning widely.

"I'm James Potter. Pleasure!" he replied cheerfully.

The two seemed quite comfortable talking amongst themselves and before they knew it, a half-hour had already passed. It only seemed like a few seconds since they started their conversation, and by the time James realized how long they had been speaking, he knew immediately that he had to leave now lest his mother punish him for being late. Eight o'clock sharp. Even a second late would have dire consequence.

"Well, it was nice talking with you," said James, "I've got to get a few things before I meet up with me mum. You wouldn't know the name of the shop where I can buy meself a uniform, would yeh?"

"I believe there's one called, _Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions."_ Black replied thinking about it for a second, "It's just down the street. Um…I'll see you 'round then?"

A large smiled spread across James' face, "Aye, you bet!"

About two hours had passed since he ran into Mr. Black and, by now, James had almost bought everything he needed on the list. He checked it over consistently as he entered each of the appropriate shops, to make sure he didn't miss anything. By the time the sun had began to descend in the big blue sky above, the boy had collected everything except a wand and an owl of some sort. Owls were important, and he knew very well that his mother was expecting him to get one. He had thought about getting another animal, but James wasn't one to disobey. His parents' house owl was nearly at its limit (it was literally grounded now), and he knew that it was a good time to buy his own.

So, without much of a second thought, James entered a rather skinny, steeped-looking shop entitled: _Magical Menagerie_. Upon entering, the first thing he realized was a rather long hallway that lay before him. It seemed the interior of the shop was a hundred times larger than the exterior had shown it to be. There were two shelves along either walls that ran straight all the way to the end of the room. Owls were everywhere: They flew above, they hung on the shelves, and some (probably the untamable ones) were stuck in iron cages along with the other animals.

There was not but a long narrow path between the four shelves that allowed one to look and examine animal carefully. The long hall seemed never ending, and James bit his lip trying to decide. There were black owls, spotted owls and multicolored owls, each of which had its very own personality. Despite the odds, it only took a good seven minutes to find an owl that suited the messy-haired boy perfectly.

He called her Cinder because of her beautiful gray coat of feathers. Her round amber eyes had caught his attention the moment he passed her. His hazel with her amber orbs locked as thought fate had finally played out for them.

After paying for his new friend, James dragged himself out onto the bustling street once more. He had been struggling for hours carrying all of his new belongings. He was holding bag after bag of interesting items. He half-wished that his mother were there now to help him with this heavy load. He ought to have tried using a trolley of some sort, but the streets were so bumpy and cracked that attempting to use one would just be a waste of time.

With all his stuff weighing down on him, he struggled toward the famous wand shop, _Ollivander's_, just two blocks down from where he stood. Every step he took made his arms and legs throb under pressure. When the shop finally came into view it looked tiny and rather shabby-looking.

When he entered the shop, he dropped everything in his hands, including Cinder, and collapsed to the floor. Cinder didn't like the fall very much, but must have understood James' pain for she remained completely still and didn't start squealing in protest. Exhausted as he was, the boy managed to get to his feet again and, with a final effort of strength, heaved everything onto a small chair stationed near the window.

The room was quite empty except for the front desk and the chair James had left his things on. The shelves on the sides of the room were completely bare and had accumulated a lot of dust and cobwebs.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. James would have jumped at this sudden appearance of a man at the counter, but didn't. He was too tired for that.

The old man who had spoke walked around the counter and toward him with a bright smile across his ancient face. The man had wide, pale eyes that looked like shining moons that loomed over at him. James felt quite uncomfortable with this old man, who he presumed to be Mr. Ollivander himself. He could only stare back, finding it better to say nothing than anything at all.

"You must be James Potter, am I right?" the man said softly. James merely nodded in reply. "Why, yes, shall I see what kind of wand would suit you? Let me measure you first. Oh don't worry about you're things, just leave them there. I'll get someone to bring them to Leaky Cauldron for you."

James blinked; he had never seen such a man with so much wisdom in his air, and was awed by the mysteriousness of him. Mr. Ollivander pulled out his own wand from the small pouch at his side and showed it to the boy. It was an elegant looking wand that seemed to curve and bend to its master's will. Seeing such a thing made the boy long for a wand of his own even more…

"Like it, do you?" asked Mr. Ollivander his eyes looking at James kindly, "Ah, yes, there is both great beauty _and_ power in each wand."

James agreed, "Yeah, I've seen my dad use his. It's amazing…"

"To own a wand is a very special thing; there are some that are not meant to have one—"

"Squibs and Muggles," interjected the boy, still staring transfixed at the bending wand.

"—Yes, squibs and Muggles. Curious, isn't it, Mr. Potter? Many who do not have wands have another destiny that lay ahead for them…It is not for us to decide who is what," sighed Ollivander, dreamily. "Anyway, lets find you a wand so you can be on your way. _Accio!_"

The drawer at the counter immediately shot open and a long role of tape measure flew out and into Mr. Ollivander's left hand. James kept note of the spell. Summoning spells were a very useful thing. The old man measured James through and through; nearly every single angle on his body was measured. James scratched his head, knowing from experience that you can expect the unexpected when you're in the presence of another wizard.

Suddenly an odd expression formed onto the old man's face, and he immediately let go of the tape measure (though it magically continued to measure the messy-haired boy) and walked around the counter to the back room where piles of wands were stored.

Unlike the front of the store the back room's walls were lined with shelves full of small boxes. James tilted his head ever so slightly to get a better view of the room without disturbing the measuring tape from doing its work. It was only a few seconds later when the measuring tape finally rolled up and flew back into the drawer where it had been before. This gave James the opportunity to walk over to the counter to see what the old man was looking for.

"Ah… done, is it? Well, I'm still figuring out which wand we should start off with first. I was thinking of maybe an elm wand," implied Mr. Ollivander, looking at the boy, "You can have a closer look if you wish. Come around, Mr. Potter."

James took his advice and uneasily wandered into the room. The shelves seemed to tower over him and they were so shoved with boxes that James thought that, at any minute now, the shelf would give way. In front of him, Mr. Ollivander stood busily looking for an appropriate wand for him; James was able to hear his periodic mumblings of, _"Oh, this won't do!"_ and _"Curious, not a single idea…"_

With nothing to do, James thought it wise to find something to occupy himself, and began glancing about the boxes in hope of finding the wand himself. He skimmed up and down the many rows of boxes, but knew not where to begin; there were just too many of them. _This will take forever;_ he shrugged then looked back at Mr. Ollivander who was apparently still deciphering between three wands. It was at this time that something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

"Hm? Is something the matter?" muffled the old man.

James had already reached out for the small box at the far shelf when he glanced back at Mr. Ollivander.

"J-just looking…" stuttered James, "I didn't mean to—"

"Find something there?" questioned Mr. Ollivander, interrupting him. "Give it here. Let me have a look."

James obeyed diligently and handed the small box to him. Mr. Ollivander set down the three wands he had been examining and took the box from him.

The old man's eyes seemed to gleam for a second as he eyed James. "You wouldn't happen to be looking for a _certain_ wand, would you, Mr. Potter?"

"No, not that I know of…" he replied his voice drifting, "…well, actually, I've always wanted to have one made of Mahogany."

"Mahogany, is it? Curious, indeed! This one happens to be just that," Mr. Ollivander exclaimed, "Could it possibly be that you…"

James stared at him for a few brief moments in complete awe. The boy didn't understand it himself very much, but whatever Mr. Ollivander was trying to say it had some sort of significance. Could it be that he actually picked the right wand for himself without even trying? Mr. Ollivander saw the puzzlement that shown on James' face and was quick to go on explaining himself.

"Here, go on, try it out," he motioned, pulling it out of the box and carefully handing it to James. "It's a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable."

James took it into his hands with great care then gripped it firmly with his right hand. There was a sudden surge of what seemed to be a warm sensation that ran from his hand to throughout his body. James shook with excitement: he was holding a real wand, but not just any other wand this one was his and his alone. With so much excitement brewing up within him, James couldn't help but wave it around causing the room to light up with a variety of color. Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands with delight at the sight of the wonderful colors.

"How pleasant, Mr. Potter! There have been only few that have come into my shop and picked their wands for themselves. You and your wand were destined for this," he said airily, "You will, no doubt, do marvelous things! It is your _destiny_, James Potter."

_Destiny…? To do what?_ His mind wondered, "Um…thanks."

Mr. Ollivander's ancient face smiled proudly at the boy before him. Noticing the look of confusion of James' face, Mr. Ollivander lightly placed his hand on James' shoulder in reassurance. James stared from behind his glasses wordlessly, but got the message for he gave a firm nod. He glimpsed down at his wand that he held in his hand and examined it some more. Getting his first wand was _definitely_ something he would always cherish and want to remember.

"That's a slightly powerful wand," explained Mr. Ollivander. "It is perfect for Transfiguration… tell me, does that suit you?"

James' face lit up entirely at the thought of it. "Suits me fine!"

Mr. Ollivander, who saw that his job was done, leisurely walked over to the counter and began shuffling through his drawer. James took the time to check on his belongings that he had left on the chair in the corner. There was nothing else there, but the chair. James' heart skipped a beat as he rushed over toward where he had sworn to put his stuff, but everything was gone! Ruffling his hair furiously he bent down to look under the chair—nothing. Even his new owl, Cinder, was no longer there. How could they just disappear? He hadn't seen nor heard any customers come into the shop!

It was at this time that Mr. Ollivander pulled out a small piece of parchment and a quill from the drawers and looked up to see James in such dismay. The poor messy-haired boy was now searching around frantically for any sign of where his belongings had gone to.

"Mr. Potter, calm yourself. Did you forget that I said I'd call someone to take your things for you?" Mr. Ollivander asked. "You can find your things at the _Leaky Cauldron_; just ask the front desk, boy."

James felt his face flush red; it had slipped his mind completely. Seeing that he had his new wand now, he felt no need to over-welcome his stay, so he immediately bid adieu to Mr. Ollivander, handed him the necessary money, and exited the place.

Fresh full of excitement and pure anticipation at getting his new wand, the messy-haired boy wandered into the street, his mind filled to the brim with pure optimism. _What's the first thing I ought to do with this wand...?_ He thought, smirking, knowing very well that he wasn't allowed to use it anyway. He'd have the new thing taken away from him if he even _tried_ anything funny. But... the boy still wanted to take a gander at fate and play with the strings. It was in his nature, after all. He got it from his father! _Genetics,_ he thought proudly, _nothing I can do about that, now can I?_

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**:: TO BE CONTINUED ::**

**Fateful Meetings**

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The next chapters will come soon.

If you Review?

They just might come faster that way =P.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **All characters except some minor and some details belong to J.K. Rowling. I take no credit for them.

**Credit~!: **I'd like to give credit to Ethereal Euphoria for helping me figure out a part of Sirius's dialogue towards the end of the chapter :). Please visit her page and read her story: .net/s/4300345/1/Prodigal_Delinquent! Don't forget to review! :D

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**Fateful Encounters**

When James finally stepped out onto the street, he quickly pocketed his wand and continued his trek. It didn't take long before the boy realized something was seriously up. Not only were the streets half empty but there also there seemed to be a hushed silence among the people. There was a significant decrease in bustling crowds and of the few people he saw, there were hardly any pleasant interactions among them. James could feel the odd tension in the cold air about him. Something had gone terribly wrong while he was away…

And he felt completely depressed at the fact that he missed the sight of it… The James had a knack for getting himself into trouble. He also had a bad habit of going out and _looking_ for trouble. It was this very habit that always seemed to put Mrs. Dorea Potter on the edge of her seat whenever the boy went out. The sense of curiosity that plagued James could beat his conscience at a brawl any day.

"Excuse me," inquired James to a young-looking witch who had been leisurely sipping a cup of an unknown green, gooey substance. "What's up with everyone? Not to mention, all this hush-hush business…?"

The witch looked up from his cup and smiled widely.

"I saw a witch and a wizard taking a small boy down that way," she explained, tilting her head in the direction she spoke. "The poor lad was wailing and screaming for help, and undoubtedly no one helped him, of course. I felt sorry for the boy, yes. But you usually don't want to get caught up in a group of magicians like _that_. A bunch of bullies they are! Wouldn't want them attacking _me_!" The young witch took long sip of her drink before ending her explanation with a lame: "The _poor_ dear…"

James frowned at her sarcasm and quickly whisked away from her and back onto the main road.

After allowing the information to sink in, he quickly turned towards the direction the witch had motioned to. The moment he realized where they were headed, he knew exactly where they were going. _That_ direction was famously known for winding up in one of the nastiest places a typically sane wizard or witch could ever find him or herself in-_Knockturn Alley_. It was the place most people wanted to avoid; except for the odd number of folk who took pleasure in doing evil deeds and extremely dark magic. Despite this knowledge, however, James had placed it at #4 on his list of places to explore the first time his parents brought him to Diagon Alley. He had added it in the night they got back, just before going to sleep when ol' Dorea had finally left him alone. His mother would have strangled him had she even seen the capital "K" on that list (she apparently knew her son very well). If she found out he came even remotely close to it... The messy-haired boy knew that whatever evil lurked there, it could never best his own mother's sharp tongue. Dorea Potter was never an advocate of domestic violence (she quite pampered her son, compared to most mothers), but her scolding and guilt-driving words were enough to buckle anyone's knees.

_B-But I have to check if that kid's all right, _he reasoned to himself. It was hard to tell whether or not it was his conscience or his ambition that coaxed him, but either way, he still needed to make sure.

With his mind decided, James pressed forward leaving the sarcastic witch to gawk in disbelief as he raced in the direction that everyone else had made a point to avoid. He moved at a fast-walking pace, ignoring the curious glances of wizards and witches that bumped into him along the way. There was only one objective he had in mind – and he was _aching_ to complete it.

The more he walked onward the shabbier the surrounding shops began to look. James also took note that everyone was walking in the direction opposite himself. After what only seemed like a few seconds later, the bustling crowds were nowhere to be seen, and the only signs of life were the unsuccessful shop owners who were barely holding their own from within. This part of Diagon Alley was probably the old sector; an area once as popular during its time, which was before Knockturn Alley turned into the a shady place it is today. James assumed this area to be the so-called 'no-man's land' between Knockturn and Diagon. It wasn't the kind of place anyone—especially a young eleven year old—should wander through alone. _Anything_ could happen. They didn't call it a no-man's land for no reason, after all. Even if he were to scream, no one would even dare to help him even if they heard him.

The alley was dead quiet. A little _too_ quiet for comfort. The silence was what drove the messy-haired boy to slow his fast pace to a cautious walk. He glanced about the shops suspiciously. There was an eerie tenseness in the air. James couldn't quite grasp it completely, but he almost felt like he was being watched from a distance. It was like two unblinking eyes were fixed on the back of his head, boring into it with intent.

Unable to withstand the temptation, James spun around to make sure he wasn't being followed, feeling for his new wand in his pocket. Just as he has suspected though, there was no one behind him. The street was empty. Nothing but the sound of the soft breeze could be heard. He was alone… At least that's what he hoped.

He walked on, taking a few more paces before stopping again. The feeling was still there, and it was causing cold chills to crawl up and down his spine. He looked behind him once more before walking again, justing passing an rusty-looking sign that read, "Strange Antiquities".

Suddenly, out of nowhere, James heard a loud crash from somewhere to the left of him. He jumped about a foot from the ground then frantically looked around for the source of the racket. Seeing nothing of particular consequence in sight other than a rubbish bin that had fallen over. _Probably just a cat,_ the sighed in relief. A bit of sweat trickled from his brow to his chin. _I must be losing it,_ he shrugged, shaking the eerie feeling away he began to trek once more. He came to explore—err—_rescue_ the one who needed rescuing! He wasn't going to cower in fear over a stray cat!

James could just about feel his adrenaline coming back to him. His objective was finally coming into focus again, and he blotted out all of the uneasy feelings with anticipation. He wanted to know what lay up ahead for him. _But_ just as he was about to pick up his pace again, someone or some_thing_ from behind yanked at his collar, pulling him into a narrow alleyway between what looked like two unused buildings.

Out of pure instinct, after watching his father do it so many times, James quickly pulled out his wand, yanked himself out of the other's grasp, and pointed it directly into the face of his 'attacker'. His mind rushed over the number of defense spells he had been memorizing over the years (he figured he'd rather have the ministry at his back for underage wizardry rather than get himself six-feet-under), and was just about to scream _Confringo_ when—

"H-hey! Watch where you point that thing!" shouted an alarmingly familiar voice.

James blinked, immediately recognized who it was: "Black!"

Black seemed to have a knack for surprises. The messy-haired boy lowered his wand, but didn't put it away just yet. He had questions for his recently met acquaintance. For one thing, he wanted to know why, of all places, the two of them would meet _here_. It made him a bit skeptical. The no-man's zone was _supposed_ to live up to its namesake: A place where no one, who is not up to no good, should be. He still didn't want to falsely accuse Black of anything without sufficient evidence, however. He was pretty sure, Black was thinking the very same thing he was _if_ he was innocent.

"Didn't you realize there was no one about the streets? You'd be an _awfully_ easy target for them, you know!" Whispered Black, glancing around cautiously, making sure no one was listening to them, "If you don't want to get yourself into trouble, mate, you best not walk around here alone. Not to mention heading toward _Knockturn Alley_! Are you lost or are you just mental…?" the handsome chap caught the accusing look from James and was quick to add: "I mean—it's not like I'm scared or up to no good or anything like that—it's just there's a couple o' unfriendly wizards around right now and..."

"…You know them, Black?"

Black hesitated a moment, but recovered his aristocratic demure, raised a brow, "Come again…?"

"Well, who exactly _are_ these 'unfriendly wizards' then, Black?"

Sirius Black's face drained of color, as though he has said a little too much.

"I just want to see what I'm up against," James explained, "You can pro'lly say I'm doing some rescuing."

"_Rescuing_? Rescuing who?"

The messy-haired boy continued, "I heard, that a couple wizards had taken a captive with them and headed down this way."

"A captive? Do you mean like a hostage?" Black asked, appearing somewhat shocked. Color returning to his face, he sputtered, "You can't be serious? Of all the nasty things—! They _lied_ to me? They told me to stand watch for them cause they had some sort of 'important meeting' or something! I kind of figured they were… _well_… But I can't believe they're still doing—! No one—I mean, NO ONE—makes a git out of me and gets away with it."

James motioned to say something but the young man cut him off.

"Now, don't go saying that you fly solo cause I'm coming with you. You wouldn't do well by yourself, I can tell ya that much. The two of them take pleasure in beating on people who aren't of pure blood heritage—you _are_ pure blood, though, right? Good! That'll make it easier for the both of us. I'll bet the kid's probably a half-blood or something!" Black stepped out into the larger alley before turning back to James, "Oh and by the way, enough with the Black this and Black that, would you? You've said it in almost every sentence since we started talking, mate. The name's Sirius, all right? And, uhm, what was your name again Potter—John, was it?"

"It's James," he corrected, following the lad. "Same to you. And… I _usually_ do fly solo, but I guess I'll make an exception this time. You seem to know what you're talking about... Glad to see you're on my side, Sirius!"

Sirius brushed his fringes from his eyes and laughed, "Heh, pleasure working with you, James."

The duo continued down the road together, wands at easy access just in case something jumped out and attacked them. They knew they weren't supposed to use their wands yet, actually, they weren't even supposed to know any countable spells with the wand at all! They weren't allowed to use magic outside of school or anywhere else for that matter. They were underage! But if worse came to worst, James wouldn't hesitate to use the few spells he picked up from their family library. Still, he boys were only novice wizards. They couldn't possible stand a chance in a duel against anyone with more experience… Their first school year hadn't even started yet!

They walked for several more minutes till they finally reached the last breech of shops that were marked as Diagon Alley territory. The tenseness here was significantly greater than back near the sarcastic witch: the tense air, rabid odor, and the chills that rolled up their spines became stronger and stronger with every step they took toward the place of _Knockturn_.

James, who was leading the way, was rather impressed by his new companion's sense of awareness. Sirius periodically glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed, and this action comforted him. He was thoroughly glad the handsome chap had decided to come. Sirius Black was handling the situation as though he had been in this very same one before. The messy-haired boy noted that he looked like a professional especially the way he whipped his wand around. It was just like how his Dad, Charlus Potter, would do it. That comparison, in itself, was impressive.

After what seemed like forever, the two finally saw the outline of the entrance to _Knockturn Alley_. Sirius began to grind his teeth the closer they approached; it was obvious to anyone that he really didn't want to set foot in such a place. James, on the other hand, felt his heart pound with a twist of excitement and anticipation. What lay ahead of them was still undeterminable, but Mr. Ollivander's words randomly began echoing through his brain: _"You will, no doubt, do marvelous things! It is your destiny, James Potter."_ It only enhanced his excitement, almost.

"My destiny, huh?"

"...Did you say something?"

James shook himself back into reality. "Uh—no, nothing. Just spacing out."

Sirius stared at him. "Spacing out? _Spacing out?_ This is no time to be spacing out, mate. We're almost there."

"I _know_. Relax, would you?"

When the two of them had finally gotten close enough to read the sign that hung above the entrance (it read "Knockturn Alley," obviously) James was quick to notice that there were figures of what appeared to be three people at its foot. The two who were standing around appeared to tower over third, short, stubby-looking fellow. James figured that the two standing there were the two unfriendly wizards Sirius and the witch had been talking about—the ones they had to worry about.

The two boys snuck behind one of shops to prevent being seen by the two hostiles.

Creeping closer, James was able to make out that one was indeed a woman and the other a man, as the sarcastic witch had told him, though, the 'man', on closer inspection, was more of a boy. He was probably still attending school. Even so, they were, no doubt, older than he was and looked almost 70% better at wizardry than he at that moment. In other words, he wouldn't stand a bloody chance in a duel against either of them. Their chances of rescue seemed to run thin, even with Sirius as his back up.

James led the way, sneaking close enough to be able to hear the conversations going on. The two quickly took refuge behind a couple broken up barrels at the side of the alley to keep from being seen. From their standpoint, the situation didn't seem as severe as either James or Sirius had imagined. They weren't beating him like they had suspected. Instead, they seemed to be taunting the child and possibly making him do stuff he didn't want to do.

"Quiet you!" scowled the older boy to the victim he was terrorizing. He and his partner in crime looked far off in years. The woman looked exceedingly older than the one standing beside her; she probably was in her early 20's or in her late teens already, her partner had the appearance of one who was struggling through early puberty. His voice was cracking in places it wasn't supposed. "Another squeal and we ought to put you out of your misery! Right, Bellatrix?"

The victim—a young boy—clutched his legs close to his face and curled himself into a ball. The poor thing was shaking tremendously. The puberty-boy frowned angrily at the whimpering, and even went as far as to kick him.

Sirius clutched his wand tightly to his chest, ready to strike, but didn't seem intimidated by their harsh treatment. James, on the other hand, didn't look like he'd be able to handle watching any more. He grit his teeth and winced as he watched the man pick up the boy by his collar, suspending him in midair.

"Rodolphus, Rodolphus," teased this Bellatrix woman, tossing her black locks over her shoulders after she had inspected each follicle for any sign of split ends. She would have been quite beautiful if not for her wicked antics. "Take him inside… We can deal with him in there—"

"No! No! Please…!" squeaked the boy, frantically trying to escape, "I'll do anything! _Anything!_ I beg you just don't—!"

Rodolphus was quick to shut the boy up by giving him a quick smack across the face. Had he no mercy? The witch, seemingly named Bellatrix, merely grinned at his sinister act and, in turn, pulled out her own wand. Teasingly, she pushed the tip of her wand against the boy's pudgy throat. "Anything, you say?" she repeated, eyes gleaming with evil intent, "Oh, and I'll have you know not to interrupt me, you wretch… But I guess it won't matter since not another word—nor breath of air, for that matter—shall pass through your lips once we're done with you…"

An immense amount of tears seeped from the boy's eyes, but he managed to sustain his pitiful whimpers. James, who had held himself back until that point, could no longer control his anger. Whether or not they were going kill the boy, it didn't matter. He completely detested the way they spoke to him. Picking on the weak like that. Beating him up just because they felt like it, just because he happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Sirius, seeing that James was ready to leap out, managed to grasp the messy-haired boy's shoulder in time. "Don't be insane, James," he muttered, under his breath, "You go out there now, and you'll be killed. I swear it! This is suicide for you!"

James wrinkled his forehead, "Only for _me_? What about you?"

"Um… well, about that, I—"

"_AHHHH_! Please, stop!"

James and Sirius both gasped and looked up to see what had happened. Bellatrix had used some sort of torture spell on the boy, and a rather large dark burn on the side of his throat was left in its stead. The torture was much too horrible for James to stand; _how can they be so cruel?_ In their expressions James could see no sign of remorse or pity for the boy they were torturing, they were so oblivious to it… Had they no hearts?

Bellatrix, once again, raised her wand to strike another blow upon the boy, but was stopped short by someone who she saw at the corner of her eye.

"Stop!" screamed James, at the top of his lungs, leaping out from where he had been hiding, "What did that boy ever do to you?"

Sirius, who had stayed hidden behind the barrel, placed his hand over his face and shook his head in aggravation, "The idiot," he whispered to himself, "does he really have to play 'hero' in this situation...?"

James pointed his wand at them, hazel eyes full of resentment behind his round glasses. Rodolphus gapped, staring as if he couldn't believe that there was someone stupid enough to stand up to his partner. Bellatrix, on the other hand, slowly turned to look at him, dark eyes obviously amused by the interruption. Things didn't seem to bode well at all in James's favor. He was clearly outmatched in power, knowledge, _and_ numbers; in other words, he had less than a two percent chance of making it out of there without getting himself killed. Sure, James had continuously read about spells and incantations from his father's books, but reading books and studying spells was much different from the real thing no matter how he looked at it.

Bellatrix eyed James interestedly for a few seconds before turning to her captive. "You're acquaintance, I assume? Rodolphus, deal with the newcomer, show him our _hospitality_, if you will."

Rodolphus' eyes seemed to glimmer at the statement and immediately tossed the boy he held to the side, "With pleasure, my lady, I would be honored."

James gulped and took a few steps backwards as the wizard advanced toward him. James searched frantically in his mind for a spell, _any_ spell, that would get him out of this mess. Unfortunately, his mind was much too jumbled up at the moment that he couldn't even think at all!

Just when Rodolphus was nearly upon him, Sirius finally stood up. "Enough! Bellatrix, stop this nonsense."

"Sirius…?" gasped she, her expression completely distorted, "Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that? Trying to ruin our good name, are you? I thought we told you to keep watch!"

"Keep watch? What am I, your lapdog, dear cousin?" he asked her, eyes narrowing.

"C-cousin…?" James sputtered, jaw dropping in astonishment.

Sirius simply ignored him. "Had I known what you were up to, I wouldn't have stayed put as you told me to." His gray eyes shifted to look at the innocent victim face down in the road, "You know, just as well as I, that even though mum fancies you, the Ministry of Magic does not. They're still watching you, you know. Wouldn't want _that_ to happen again, now would you?"

Bellatrix glowered, and then kicked the whimpering boy on the ground out of mere spite. The right corner of her mouth tilted upward and she did it once more, eyes transfixed on James.

James motioned to lunge at her, but Rodolphus got in his way. Sirius, on the other hand, stood his ground staring back at his cousin coldly.

"You'd better leave now, lest they find you." He spat.

"Hmph, I could care less whether the Ministry brings a cavalry of wizards after me," Bellatrix stated, her eyes looming down on the two children who stood in her way, "You're mum'll be hearing of this tonight; enjoy your _pleasant_ dinner. Rodolphus, we're leaving, we can have our fun with Sirius and his '_friends_' later."

The two gave their last glances back at them before disappearing into the eeriness of _Knockturn Alley_. When they were completely out of sight, Sirius spat in their direction. James, who was still rather confused about Sirius' relation to them, wished not to bring up the topic at present. Instead, he rushed over to the shaken boy he had set out to save. Hesitantly, he rolled the boy on his back and awkwardly tried to comfort him.

"P-Please, don't hurt me! I'll be good, I promise!" he cried, pulling his blonde hair in frustration. His eyes were closed, and his arms and legs were flapping around like a lunatic.

Sirius shrugged, "Open your eyes, mate, we're not going to hurt you."

"They've already gone now," James stated, watching the boy wipe the water from his eyes, "How's your neck? Still hurts?"

The blonde-haired, pudgy-faced boy slowly opened his round eyes. Realizing that the ones that had been attacking him were indeed gone, he finally sat up. He sat there for what seemed to be a good three minutes before he began to wail frantically again. James and Sirius, who had not expected his cries to be so loud, were startled and didn't know what to do to make him calm down. Sirius tried offering some candy he had bought during his stay at Diagon Alley, but the boy just kept sobbing. The handsome chap was utterly annoyed by this and stomped a few feet away in order to give James some room to try his luck.

The messy-haired boy adjusted his glasses and then crouch on the ground beside him, "Um… hey—lad—uh, could you please stop crying…? I know it was traumatizing for you but at least lower your voice a little, we're by _Knockturn Alley_, after all—"

"_Kn-Knockturn Alley_?" the boy gasped, "Keep it away! Make it go away!"

The frightened little chap glanced frantically around for something to grab hold of, and lo and behold, James had unfortunately crouched down right beside him. James was taken by surprise when the boy wrapped his arms around his neck, nearly choking him and causing him to fall over. Sirius who had stood there looking at them for quite sometime appeared rather amused by James' gags for help.

"—Please…get…off… me…" he croaked, trying to pry the boy off him.

With a final sniff the boy let go, allowing James to breathe again. He was still rather shaken, but he seemed in a much better condition than when he was face down in the dirt. Satisfied with the quiet that followed after the prolonged wailing, Sirius finally came to join the two of them.

James who saw Sirius approaching toward them from the corner of his eye gathered enough courage to ask about the topic he wanted to avoid in the first place.

"She was of your kin?"

"Cousin," He replied in a disgusted tone. "Bellatrix Black. I wish it weren't so, though. Rodolphus Lestrange is her lackey. Oh and sorry I didn't fill you in beforehand, James, I didn't want to get you involved to begin with. You've got to love family problems!"

James smiled, he felt a little more reassured about the situation, "It's all right, you had good intentions. If it wasn't for you I would have been at St. Mungos and—er—" glancing over at the shaken boy asked, "Oh, yeah, I don't think I caught your name?"

"P-Pet—Peter P-Pettigrew."

"Right—and we wouldn't have been able to save young Pettigrew, here," exclaimed James, finishing his sentence. He then turned to young lad, "Oh, and by the way, I'm James Potter and this is Sirius Black."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," said Sirius, simply.

Peter seemed rather transfixed, his eyes not daring to wander away from the sight of Sirius, "Y-Y-you're from the _Black_ family…?"

Sirius thought for a moment then shrugged, "Correct."

James, thinking that the little Peter was going to scream, panicked slightly. The pudgy yellow-haired boy had more than enough reason to hate or be prejudiced against anyone even remotely affiliated with Black Family.

Not wanting there to be any sort of conflict between the two, James immediate interjected, "Don't worry much, Peter. I mean—Sirius isn't the kind of person who'd stand by and hurt just anyone."

Both Peter and Sirius turned their heads towards James; both in rather questionable expressions. Peter's seemed a bit more of lost than Sirius's.

"Now, how would you know that?" asked Sirius, quite astonished upon hearing him say this, "We only just met, and I carry with me one of the noblest of noble pure-blood families in the world! You're not even remotely suspicious about me…?"

Peter looked in awe between them. James, on the other hand, remained as calm as he usually was and immediately began to reflect upon what Sirius had asked him. The handsome chap did have a point after all; they had not spent more than two hours together the entire day, there was just no possible way for James to know _that_ much. But even so, James didn't feel like backing down on the words he had uttered so proudly about his new acquaintance…

"Well," began James, a wide smile shown on his face, "I guess you can call a good hunch. You're a friend, after all. Aren't friends supposed to trust one another? Isn't that what friends are for? Plus, me Mum's a 'Black' too and you don't suppose _I_ look suspicious...?"

Sirius blinked, and scratched the back of his head; "Gee, James, I didn't think you were one of those soft types… Your mother's a Black? I'll have to find her on the tree back home… But anyway, you _are_ right, in a way. I'm not the kind of person who'd hurt anyone without a good reason. I have to say, though, I did like that speech on your definition of what 'friends' were. Ain't that, right, Pettigrew?" He laughed, "No hard feelings, mate, I ought to have stopped that witch sooner."

Peter quickly shook his head rigorously, "No, no! You two saved me! I wish I had enough wit to stand up to them… they _always_ pick on me."

Both James and Sirius looked between each other.

"_Always_?" questioned the messy-haired boy, "This isn't the first?"

Peter merely shook his head. "It's probably the fourth time… I always run into them!"

Sirius rubbed his chin. "Well, where you lack wit… you sure have a lot of dumb luck. Running into a lot like them four times and coming back alive!"

Grinning, James added, "But yeah…to have enough wit? I'm sure Sirius has a bit of that to spare for yeh, Peter."

"Mate, don't go giving the lad any falsehoods. He ought to know that _you've_ got the most wit out of the both of us," Sirius pointed out.

"You're welcome to hang out with us if you'd like," expressed the messy-haired boy, extending a hand out so that he could help the poor, shaken boy to his feet. "I think two unlucky people can counter that lucky curse you have on you. With us, those two wouldn't _dare_ go near you!"

The blonde perked a bit at the mention of this, and a little color came back to his pale cheeks. "R-Really...?"

"Yeah," mused Sirius, "Belly and Rudolph won't come anywhere near you so long as we're around. _Though_... I wouldn't recommend making any future plans if I were you. Life insurance goes a long way, isn't that right, James?"

James grinned widely, completely ignoring the horrified look on Pettigrew's face. Taking an arm around the shorter, rounder boy's neck, he trudged them down the road to catch up with Sirius. In the span of only thirty minutes, so many things had happened, and in the midst of it all, he had made himself two friends! _What are the odds of that...?_

* * *

**:: STAY TUNED ::**

**An Unexpected Return**

* * *

Please don't forget to leave a review.

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Thanks :D!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Thanks for sticking with me so far. It's just the beginning! They'll be heading to Hogwarts soon enough :).

* * *

**Chapter 3: An Unexpected Return**

By the time James and his new friends rejoined Diagon Alley's main road the lot of them had already made plans amongst themselves to spend the rest of the day together. Seeing that it was only about five o' clock and the sun was still present in the sky, James insisted that Sirius and Peter stick around until his mother came by to pick him up. The boy had no other particular plans, anyway, and he felt it was in everyone's best interest to try and cheer Peter up.

Poor Peter Pettigrew appeared very pale and rather traumatized to the point where both Sirius and James couldn't help but feel sympathetic for the kid. Sirius, who never really had much of a talent for cheering people up, left that part to James. Instead, he felt it his sworn duty to find as many interesting things for them to do before the day was up.

Their first stop was _Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour_; one could never have too much ice cream! The three of them all agreed that the sweetness would do them all some good, not to mention, the boys were feeling a tad bit hungry anyway. They sat just outside of the shop at a small wooden table under the warm sunlight, all eating, drinking, and discussing interests and others of the sort. James had ordered his usual ice cream and even went as far as to pay for Peter's icy-mulberry drink. Sirius, who in attire alone looked rich enough to pay for half of the supplies in Diagon Alley, bought some extra snacks for all to share, but didn't get anything specifically for himself. He was apparently a bit too busy using a quill and a piece of parchment that he 'barrowed' from a careless, passing wizard to write down a list of the places they were to go next.

"Hey," said James after he swallowed a large scoop, "You don't really have to do that, you know… Aren't you going to get something to drink, at least?"

Sirius merely looked up at James and replied, "No drink for me, thanks." He paused for a minute and wrote another shop on the parchment before finishing, "I don't want to have us standing around looking for something to do. I'm not one to stand around looking dumb, if yah ask me."

Peter nodded his head mutely, agreeing with Sirius, and then popped a rock-like candy in his small mouth. James said nothing, but managed to pull of his usual grin. Peter apparently had a sort of invisible respect for Sirius that even _he_ could identify. The messy-haired boy knew that blonde lad thought of them all as friends, but figured that he had a slight more respect for Sirius than himself. James didn't feel offended or jealous in anyway, though. Instead, he found it rather humorous and somewhat adorable. Sirius _did_ hold on to the Black name, and it _was_ that name that ensured that Bellatrix wouldn't pull a fast one on them.

"So, James, you're going to Hogwarts too, right?" asked Sirius, thoughtfully, "You had the same list I had, so I figured..."

James nodded, "You bet, I am! You're an incoming first year too, then?" he inquired back. Sirius nodded, then wrote another shop on the parchment. "Great!" The messy-haired boy then turned to Pettigrew and said, "Don't worry, you'll get your Hogwart's letter when you're old enough, and when you do, Sirius and I will still be you're good friends, alright, mate?"

The blonde seemed somewhat distraught by this, looking at both of them rather embarrassedly. Both Sirius and James looked questionably back at him and asked what the problem was. Peter looked down for a moment, murmuring something under his breath. His voice was so low that neither of them were able to hear a single word.

"What was that?"

He twiddled his thumbs and mumbled, "B-but… I already got my letter."

James stared at the boy, rather dumbfounded. Sirius did somewhat of the same thing.

"You—You're going to Hogwarts this year?" they asked in unison.

Young Pettigrew nodded.

"Exactly how old _are_ you, Pettigrew?" asked James, eating the last bit of ice cream in his glass.

"A tad bit younger than you, James…" he replied, biting his lip, "I just turned eleven 'bout four months ago."

James couldn't help but frown at his horrible misjudgment, and tried his best to make it up to him. Sirius shoved the last bit of candy left on the table into his mouth before he began to fold the piece of parchment and tuck it away in his pocket.

"All done?" asked James, trying to change the subject, "Well—uh—do either of you have a favorite Quidditch team? The Vratsa Vultures are a great team to watch, don't you think?"

"Bulgaria, huh? I agree they're a great team to watch," responded Sirius, scratching his head. "But as for my favorite team… well, you'll have to give me to minute."

Sirius crossed his arms thinking about the number of Quidditch teams there were in all. Both James and Peter waited patiently for his response, but all in vain. Nearly five minutes passed, and the only thing Sirius could come up with was that he really didn't have a favorite team. James rumpled the back of his hair, and went on to deepen the conversation with Sirius. The two boys both seemed to be real hard-core Quidditch fans, and soon enough they were already talking about the upcoming World Cup the following year.

Both Sirius and James were not only very clever and witty, but they also seemed to share a vast amount of interests. This was enough to make Pettigrew even more awed by them.

"Who do you think'll make it to the Cup?" asked Sirius, "Ireland hasn't been doing very well lately. So I'll bet they won't make it this time around... Still think Bulgaria?"

James pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stared skyward, "Well 'course, Ireland _definitely_ won't this time 'round… twenty-six _losses_, it's been a horrible season for 'em! Do you think the Arrows still have chance against the Vultures like they did in '32?"

"Naw… It would be a miraculous if they did, though." He replied, "Back in '32, that was pure luck! Pro'lly because of the dense fog and rain back then. Oh! And did you see the _Daily Prophet's_ top story a week ago? Those Falcons might actually have a chance this year!"

James laughed, "One would have to be _stupid_ not to have seen it! The Falcons are doing pretty well for themselves, even after Kevin and Karl's retirement two years ago." He shrugged, tapping his spoon against the table. "They ought to change their motto, though; they don't play as rough as they used to, don'cha think?"

"I agree with you there! Them Broadmoor brothers were the brawn behind the team!"

"Yeah, not a bit of brain in 'em, but a whole lot of power! Without the brothers, they just seem like any other team…"

The two Quidditch fanatics continued to critique the Quidditch World on every single aspect even as they began walking toward their next destination. Several times, the two of them tried getting young Peter into their conversation, but the boy refused to take part.

The youngest of the three seemed to enjoy just listening in on their conversation. His round eyes seemed to brighten every time either James or Sirius would remark something he never knew before. And there was quite of lot he didn't know about. James tried his best to get the blonde-haired boy to talk with them, but his response was always either an 'I don't know' or '…' kind of response. This being the case, it was only obvious that they eventually stopped asking him at all. Their pudgy little friend didn't seem to mind being ignored. He actually preferred it.

_Quality Quidditch Supplies_ was probably the best place one could find anything Quidditch—a haven for any aspiring player. By popular demand, the three of them set off for the store at once. James found it to be his favorite shop in all of Diagon Alley, and it would have been Sirius' as well if not for the fact that he had not been inside the shop before. His mother detested the sport and wouldn't let him even set foot into the shop. Thankfully, the handsome chap's mother was nowhere in sight and the lot of them were in the clear.

"That's got to suck, mate…" muttered James, shoving his hands into his front pockets, "I'd hate to be kept away from something I really liked. You sure you still want to go in?"

Sirius frowned. "What do you mean…? Of course I'm going in! There's no way I'm going to keep you from your fun just because of me mum," he retorted then turned around to see Peter squeaking in fright at the sight of an ugly wizard that had run into him. "Com'on you, quit fooling around and get over here!"

Peter scampered toward them hastily. He quickly clutched his hands against Sirius' shirt, shaking fiercely. James, who had been completely oblivious to what had scared Peter so badly, walked into the shop his eyes completely transfixed on the new broom that had just come in stock: the Nimbus 1001.

James appeared to be in some sort of trance upon entering the shop. His eyes darted about the place in great wonder and anticipation; his obsession with Quidditch was far beyond what either Sirius or Peter could have possibly imagined. The messy-haired boy ran from each end of the room fingering practically every single appliance that was marked and labeled as new. The boy ran about so fast, moving from item to item that not even Sirius could keep up with him. If James wasn't accepted into some field of Quidditch during his lifetime, Sirius would think that the entire bloody world was had gone mad. There was no one in the entire Wizarding World who was _this_ obsessed with the game other than James Potter.

"My, my, James. Haven't seen you here since last week!" exclaimed a rather flamboyant voice.

It was the shopkeeper, Mr. William Soles, in his regular everyday attire gazing interestedly at him from his counter. It was obvious to anyone that James was a regular customer here, and young William had been rather acquainted with the boy for some time.

James looked up from the piece of cleaning cloth he had been inspecting and grinned, "Oy, Will. I've been busy—Hogwarts stuff. You went there didn't you?"

"Well, of course. I graduated about five years ago," William Soles rubbed the side of his neck. He pushed himself away from the counter and walked leisurely toward James, "We've gotten loads of new items since you last came. My old man ordered them all just a couple days ago… he thinks it's about time I took his job for him."

James laughed, "So that's why you're in here? You used to only work at the shop on weekends," he then turned to Peter and Sirius who had been standing in mutual silence some feet away from him. "By the way, that there's Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. They're friends of mine."

William tipped his work hat to them and smiled. "Pleasure meeting both of you," he said, "Since you're mates with James, you might find yourself coming into my store more often than most! Better get acquainted now than never!"

James could only hold the conversation for a few more seconds before speeding off to inspect the rest of the store. He spent a majority of his time, however, lingering in front of the glass case (no doubt, triply charmed to keep from thieves) that concealed the new line of Nimbus brooms that were coming out. His friends could only watch him move about the store laughing. William took the honor of explaining to the others that this was just in the Potter's nature—Charlus Potter and James' grandfather both shared this love.

After being in the store for about half an hour or so, the messy-haired boy finally finished poking around everywhere. He cheerfully walked over to where Sirius and Peter were leisurely chatting just in front of the store, and excitedly displayed to them what he had bought.

"Here," he said, handing each of his friends a thin book that read _Quidditch Through the Ages_ by Kennilworthy Whisp, "I bought one for each of us!"

Peter squealed in excitement and quickly flipping through it. Sirius, on the other hand, furrowed his brow. "Why'd you buy an extra?" asked the handsome chap, catching sight of two of the same book in the small bag James carried.

"Huh?" Adjusting his glasses, James looked into the bag and pulled out, not one but two copies. One for himself and the other one for…? "Oh, William must have given me an extra one… Ah well, I don't feel like going in again. I might lose myself in a Quidditch-spree again."

They all laughed.

It was about this time however that James noticed that it was almost thirty minutes till eight; his mom could be at Leaky Cauldron at any minute now! He hesitated to be separated from his newly found friends, and didn't know how to go about bringing up the topic of separation. He really wanted to get to know Peter and Sirius a bit more before school started. If only he hadn't spent so long entranced in his bloody obsession! They could have gone to loads of other places that Sirius had suggested on his small piece of parchment.

Sirius, being able to read through James, also seemed quite troubled by this and was forced to ask; "We're seeing each other at Hogwarts, right?"

"Of course," Said James, his worries escaping him. The lot of them had stood up and began walking in the direction of the _Leaky Cauldron_. "I was just hoping we'd get a more time to hang out before school started, if you know what I mean. But anyway, what House do you think you'll be in? I'm hoping I'll be in Gryffindor!"

"Hm. I'm not sure…" Peter mumbled, head hanging to his chest, "Hufflepuff…maybe? … not Ravenclaw…Probably not Slytherin…I dunno, really. But I wanna go to the same house you do, James!"

James laughed, "What about you Sirius?"

"Well, everyone in my family's been in Slytherin," replied the handsome chap in a low voice. "Not that I really _want_ to go there, but if I do, there's nothing I can do. Family heritage, yeh see…"

James and Peter looked at one another. The messy-haired boy didn't count on turning such a bright conversation into a deep one. He was quick on the up take and changed the topic almost immediately. He only felt satisfied with himself when Sirius finally got back into the conversation, back to his usual self. The handsome chap seemed rather relieved by this move. He didn't quite feel like talking about his family at a time like this.

By the time they had reached the _Leaky Cauldron_ all of their clothes were distinctly messed up and each of them had their share of charcoal smudges all over their faces. Sirius had, along the way, decided to take everyone for a few detours through a few shops to simply fool around and make fun. Sirius seemed to have the same knack for trouble that James did, and they worked as brilliant troublemaking partners. A few explosions here and there during their stay in the _Apothecary_ shop had made their appearance what it was now. They only tried a few minor tricks, but these 'minor tricks' ended up resulting in an utter potion disaster. The shop owner's cat had to chase them out despite the fact that the shop owner, herself, laughed right along with the other spectators that saw them. The trio had laughed it off too, of course.

Several passing people stared at them as they entered the _Cauldron_, giving them quizzical looks. Only Peter seemed to be troubled by what others thought of their attire. They were a mess! Despite that though, the lot had the time of their lives and they weren't going to let anyone ruin it for them.

Everyone except for Mrs. Potter it seemed.

"James!" she gasped in surprise. Just as any mother would, Dorea Potter began patting out the blotches all over her son with her bare hands, "What did I tell you about making trouble? Oh—and who might these two strapping young men be?"

"Uh… Hi mum. More like, _brewing_ trouble, right guys?" inquired the messy-haired boy to his friends. They all chuckled. "This is, here, is young Peter Pettigrew and the handsome one is Sirius Black. They're first years too!" James said rumpling his hair as usual.

"It's nice to meet the both of you. You boys didn't happen run into anything dangerous, did you?" She asked them, her face up in worry.

"If my cousin, Bellatrix, counts then yes."

Mrs. Potter gave a sigh of relief. It was obvious to anyone that she didn't know how dangerous the young Ms. Black could be, but no one wished to elaborate.

"You all seem to be perfectly fine here. So, James, I'll go on ahead so that you three can say your good byes. You don't mind traveling by Floo powder again do you, dear?" asked Mrs. Potter, ignoring the blunt expression on James's face. She then turned to Sirius and Peter, "I guess I'll see you two at King's Cross? If possible, you all should come visit for lunch. Oh, James, do invite them, would you? And I've already brought your things home so no need to worry about your good owl! Smart little bird she is—so loyal! She already knew who I was!"

With that said, Mrs. Potter pulled out her wand, waved it a bit, and the three-charcoaled faces were cleaned away. Then she smiled at them all, said her goodbye, and then with a loud crack she disappeared from sight. Peter's mouth remained hanging and he stared at the place where she had just disappeared. Sirius and James had once again engaged themselves in another conversion.

"Your mum really cares about yah, mate." Sirius said smiling, "I wish _I_ had a mum like that."

"You're mother is just as cool as you are!" it was the first thing Peter had said in a while, and it startled both Sirius and James to hear his voice again. In that instance, their eyes locked with one another. Peter had a sort of twinkle in his eye when he smiled at Sirius, but when his eyes locked with James a painful emptiness that hadn't been there since that morning crawled back into the messy-haired boy's heart.

"Um… James?"

"You look pale, mate…" Sirius said taking a closer look at him.

James sighed heavily and shook his head. Why did that feeling come back to him again? He tried all this time to forget about it, but it still continued to haunt him. "It—It's nothing, honest." James lied shuffling his feet. Obviously the two didn't believe a word he said since they were still looking at him with great worry. "Believe me, I just got a chill. It's nothing serious—"

_BEEP BEEP BEEP_. Both James and Sirius jumped at the obnoxiously loud and random beeping noise that had blasted from out of nowhere. Sirius even went so far as to cover his ears; it was so loud! Peter blinked and everyone else in the room stared at him. It was completely obvious that the sound was coming from him since there was a flashing light on his shirt that went along with noise. Peter flushed red.

"Sorry…It's my mum," explained the blonde, trying to cover the blinking light with his hand. "I—I have to get going."

"Right," Sirius said flashing a particularly charming smile, which made a group of girls nearby squeal with delight. "See you on the train, mate. Better yet, some time sooner?"

Peter smiled, waved to the both of them, and waddled away.

When the pudgy little boy had left the vicinity of the _Leaky Cauldron, _Sirius turned back to James hoping to strike up another great conversation. Strangely enough, he was startled by the dumbfounded look the messy-haired boy was giving from behind his round spectacles.

"S-Something wrong?" he gawked.

"How did you do that?" James asked him, his eyes wide.

"Do what?"

Sirius apparently had no clue what he had just done, and he cocked his left eyebrow upward. James, on the other hand, crossed his arms.

"How did you make those girls squeal like that…?" James asked again his eyes narrowing in suspicion. James knew there had to be some kind of secret to it, there just _had_ to be! James had never seen girls swoon like that before in his life! Was it because he looked so mature? Was it Sirius's hair? His eyes? Clothes? The girls looked much older than they were, and young Black had the power to bend them! _How…?_

"You mean… the group of girl over there?" Sirius inquired pointing to them. They once again squealed in ultimate delight at being noticed.

James was left without anything to say; he just continued to stare in awe at how good Sirius was in this kind of predicament. He wasn't even trying! James glanced back at the group of girls who were now talking amongst themselves and giggling like crazy fan girls. You would have thought that they were on something by the way they jumped up and down, squealed, and clapped their hands. It was even worse than how Peter did it.

"Don't mind them." Sirius sighed.

"How can I not?" James replied looking at girls one by one.

Sirius shrugged.

"Hey, um, you wanna come over my house sometime? I'd love to show you my Quidditch collection!" James said tearing his eyes away from the ladies.

"I'd like that." Sirius nodded, "I'll have to appeal to me mum, though, so bad luck today. I'd honestly do _anything_ to get away from that ruddy old place."

James cocked his head in a puzzled manner, but Sirius shook his hands in a motion to forget about it. James took his word for it and Sirius left _Leaky Cauldron_ after seeing his new Hogwarts friend off via Floo Powder.

* * *

From the moment he arrived home that day, James Potter's parents could tell that their son was not acting like his usual everyday self. True, the day had passed and night had finally come upon their humble abode, but both Dorea and Charlus Potter _knew_ he wasn't acting this way because it was getting close to bedtime. It was quite the opposite, really. James appeared much happier than before, full of life and full of stories. He told his parents about almost everything that happened that day. _Almost_ everything. But the way he spoke, you would have thought the messy-haired boy had gone off on an amazing adventure to another world. He drew his parents in with every word, drawn so much that they only began eating their supper when the food had already gone cold.

"My, James," pitched Charlus, grinning. "Sounds like quite the day you had!"

James beamed. "Made some amazing friend, too, Dad," he explained, as he watched his father walk slowly toward his usual sport by the fireplace. "Mum, you tell 'im!"

"Alright, alright, I'll be there!" exclaimed his mother from the other room.

Mrs. Potter was busy cleaning up the table and whatever mess was left about in the kitchen. She had to make perfectly sure that none of the plates went in the wrong direction or smashed into each other when she wasn't looking. China plates were always the _most_ devious of platters once enchanted. They were so full of themselves; they liked destroying all the other plates when you weren't looking. It was a platter war of dominance; at least, that's what Charlus called it. She couldn't possibly give them even a second's chance alone.

"You said one of your friends is a Black, did you, son?" inquired the boy's father, taking his seat. Charlus, being a tad bit older in years for a wizard, had hard time moving around too much sometimes. James always offered his assistance, but his father would never allow it. "From your description, he doesn't sound like a bad kid. I'd like to meet this… What's his name again?"

"Sirius, Sir," replied the messy-haired boy, smiling.

"Ahh… Sirius Black? I'd like to meet him. And what's the other one's name?"

"Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew. D'you know his family, Dad?"

His father shook his head slowly, but immediately indicated the he'd love to meet Peter too. "Any friend of my son is welcome here," he stated, ruffling the top of James's hair. "Why don't you owl them an invitation? You can pick them up at the Leaky Cauldron maybe tomorrow _or_ now, perhaps?"

James stared. "_Now?_" he mouthed, "You mean it?"

"'Course I do! Would I ever say anything I wouldn't mean? That's only if they're willing to write a few letters, of course."

Before Charlus could even finish his sentence, James had already rushed out of the living room, passed the kitchen where his mother curtly reminded him not to run in the house, into their _second_ living room, up the stairs, through the hallway, and finally into their private house owlery. Compared to other places, their owlery happened to be the smallest room in their house. It was the smallest, but exceptionally cozy and warm. Cozy for both the owls and the caretakers. It was a wonderful room, and Potters took great pride in it.

Upon entering the room, James could already see his gray owl waiting for him at the furthest end of the room. Cinder greeted him with a hoot, flapping her wings, excited that he had come to see her so soon. It almost seemed like she knew that James was going to send out his first letter that night, but then again, the boy _did_ make an extreme ruckus coming upstairs.

"H-hold on a sec," he breathed, trying to catch his breath. He stroked Cinder's soft feathers first before reaching for an empty sheet of parchment, a quill, and ink. "Quaffle, mind shining me a bit of light, please?"

_Crack._ Suddenly, out of what appeared to be nowhere, a faint light illuminated the room. Although it was faint, it was enough for James to be able to see what he was writing. As soon as he had a clear view of the parchment, he quickly dipped his quill into the ink bottle and then began scribbling in somewhat sloppy-yet-neat handwriting:

_Sirius! Pettigrew!_

_Me dad said you guys could come by my house tomorrow. Says he'd like to have a look at both of you. Don't worry, he's great. He won't bite too hard. Me mum's just as thrilled. It'd be great of you both could come by. We could meet up at the Leaky Cauldron in the morning. Perhaps… you could persuade your parents to let you guys spend the night…? My folks'd be glad to have you guys around. We could do a whole bunch o' things. Owl me as soon as you can, all right, mates? See you both soon then._

_James_

As soon as he finished, James lifted the parchment upward and once again called, "Quaffle, can you duplicate this for me?" As soon as the boy had said it, the parchment had suddenly become two in his hands. The messy-haired boy smiled warmly as he rolled up the parchments, tied them, and then attached them to Cinder for her to carry to his two new friends. And as if by instinct, Cinder was off into the night just as James had finished the last knot.

He sighed feeling somewhat satisfied with himself as he watched his faithful owl swoop away until she was completely indistinguishable in the oncoming darkness.

"Will that be all, Master James?" asked a rather croaky high-pitched voice from the doorway of the owlery.

It was the Potter house elf, Puffle, whom James had taken to calling Quaffle instead. He insisted to his parents that it was a nickname. 'Puffle' never seemed to stick appropriately in his mind; then again, the only thing that was _ever_ on the messy-haired boy's mind was Quidditch. Quaffle just… came naturally. Ever since the boy could remember, he had always called the Puffle, Quaffle. It just seemed better, and the house elf never seemed to have any qualms about having such a sports-y nickname. Actually, she had become quite accustomed to it.

Puffle was a lucky house elf, and she knew it. Most pureblood families that owned house elves treated them lower than slaves, and gave them the grubbiest of things to wear. Sometimes only a towel or torn curtain was used to wrap about their bony bodies, only able to barely cushion their bodies whence they were beaten. Beatings were a norm when it came to wizard-elf treatment, but the Potters seemed to be one of few purebloods left that actually went against the norm. They treated her an equal. She even had her own little cozy room! Puffle was actually one of _very_ few that actually _liked_ the family she served. The Potters always treated her kindly and never ungratefully. They owed Puffle a lot, and she, in turn, owed a lot to them as well.

Her large, dark brown eyes almost smiled back at James with as much pride as his parents did. There was no doubt that this house elf would do anything to stand up for her young master no matter what. She would do anything to protect the family she served.

"Yep, thanks loads!" exaclaimed James, walking out of the owlery and giving ol' Puffle a nice pat on the head. James especially liked the fact that in places where he couldn't perform magic because of his being underage, he could simply ask Quaffle to do it for him. She was extremely obedient to them.

Her long, droopy ears seemed to perk up slightly, and a wide elf-smile spread across her wrinkled (but clean) face. Like smoke, and as quickly as she had seemed to appear in the owlery, she vanished from sight. Her job was done, and James was now on his way to his bedroom to occupy himself with useless things. It was still early, the boy had checked the time as soon as he stepped in. The snitch-shaped clock situated just opposite of his door made it somewhat easy (It fluttered from side to side periodically) for him to merely glance up and see what he wanted. He shrugged lightly: 10:45 pm. It was late already, and there was hardly any hope that he'd get a prompt reply if his new friends went to bed according to curfew. At least, he had a feeling young Pettigrew did.

The Potters had never been that strict about bedtime curfews like most families were. It was always 9:00 sharp and the kids were off to bed. James, on the other hand, had a habit of both sleeping _and_ waking up whenever he pleased. His parents were exceptionally lenient with their son; after all, he was their miracle child. Only son. Spoiled and pampered to the core. Despite all of this though, the 11 year old still kept up with his responsibilities. If he were told to wake up early because something was happening the following day, he'd obey without a single violent reaction. It was only a few times that his parents seemed to ask things from him, and it only seemed proper that he repay their lenience with a bit of obedience. They were, after all, amazing parents. James loved them and he wouldn't exchange them for the world.

With not but a quiet _oof! _James plopped down on his soft, silky, queen-sized bed. He didn't quite feel up for sleeping yet, but just lay there staring up at his ceiling. Unlike most ceilings, James had pleaded with her father to create for him a transparent one. He had heard so much about the enchanted ceiling within the Great Hall of the Hogwarts' Castle that he could help but desire something like that in his very own room. Unlike Great Hall, which was only _enchanted_ to make it look like the sky outside, James's ceiling was made transparent so that he could actually _see_ the real sky outside. It was like glass, but not fragile at all.

The boy wasn't at all surprised when he was unable to spy even a single star in the dark sky above him. _Another cloudy night, huh?_ He thought, frowning. It quite literally felt like he was lying out on the grass outside just gazing upward; James had grown to love the feeling, especially the feeling of the breeze through his hair. Unfortunately, however, his room had no breeze or the chirping of crickets like he'd experience outside at a time like this, but the sky was good enough for him at the moment. Seeing the moon peeking out from behind clouds was enough for him. It was hard to tell what phase the moon was, but James reckoned that it was probably a gibbous, though; he was never really that good at drawing the line between gibbous and full.

James would have liked to get up from his bed and go find something to do before Cinder returned from her journey, but he felt like a dozen weights were holding him down. _I shouldn't have lain down,_ now he didn't feel like getting up at all! The power in his arms had drained; he couldn't even find it in himself to sit up. He was too comfortable. Eventually, during the period of time that the messy-haired boy was deciding whether to get up or not, his eyes began to droop and he finally drifted into a rather peaceful slumber.

* * *

_Tap. Tap. Tap._ James groaned, tossing over on his side to snuggle deeper against his comforter. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ He yawned, loudly, at the annoying noise and tried drifting again, but unfortunately, the tapping didn't cease. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ It kept going off and on until finally James had no choice but to rub his eyes and unwillingly get up out of bed. He sat up, world spinning before his eyes for a while until it all came together. He yawned again, stretched his arms, and stood up. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ Groggily, he turned his turned his head to his lone window at the far end of his room; whatever that irritating tapping noise was, it was coming from outside.

"Who is it?" he muttered, sounding like he was about to yawn again.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._ James blinked: he saw it this time. He just had to look again _just_ to make sure. His eyes widened at the sight of it. Immediately after noticing whom it was at his window, the boy rushed over and opened the window. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster as he allowed Cinder back into his room. The one thing that caught his attention wasn't his bird… It was the little roll of parchment attached to her leg. She had not come home empty handed.

Out of pure curiosity, the boy shot a glance at his clock once more before rushing to Cinder to detach the parchment. Surprisingly enough, the time read 2:26 in the morning. Why had it taken Cinder so long to get back…? Did Peter and Sirius live _that_ far from each other? James didn't even think of the mere idea of one of them living outside of London. He had never bothered asking them. If they indeed live _that_ far apart, did that mean that one of them was still awake at this late hour…? James's felt his stomach flip as he unrolled the letter: it was from Sirius. The amazingly scripted handwriting was evidence enough; wouldn't his handwriting be perfect just like the rest of him?

_James,_

_Glad to hear from you so quick! I wasn't expecting an owl from you just yet, but I'm glad of it. Seriously. Much appreciation, mate. I really needed it. Anyway, it's already morning. I'm heading over to Leaky Cauldron right now, so can I have you pick me up? I'll fill you in later. Thanks a bunch, James! You're a pal. See you in a few._

_Sirius_

James stared hard at the letter, mouth gaping. He had to reread it several times before he actually understood what his new acquaintance was trying to tell him. _Now?_ Did he mean _now_ now? Or 'now' as in the now after he sent Cinder back now? How long had he been asleep? How long had Cinder been tapping at the window? How long ago had Sirius actually sent this letter…? There were so many questions that raced through the messy-haired boy's mind. He couldn't really comprehend what he was to do first.

Mechanically, he dropped the letter and ran out of his room. The hallways were all dark. His parents must be sound asleep by now. Then again, it _was_ almost three in the morning; any normal wizarding family would be asleep at this hour. To know that Sirius had actually gone to _Leaky Cauldron_ this early in the morning to be picked up was just an insane idea... But then again, everything about what they had gone through the day prior had already been borderlining insane already. Who's to say Sirius hadn't been waiting for two hours already?

* * *

**To. Be. Continued.**

A Taste of Foreboding

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter :).

Please don't forget to review before you go! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** I wasn't planning on releasing this today, but it just happened. LOL. Here's my Christmas/New Year's gift to everyone. I hope you guys enjoy it :). Sorry for the slowness, people. It'll pick up, I promise! There's a reason for the slowness... Just please bare with me xD. Oh, and thanks to everyone who reviewed :D!

* * *

**A Taste of Foreboding**

"Are you—" James took a deep breath. "—_mad_?"

Sirius Black sat at the furthest end of the, still, crowded _Leaky Cauldron_, smirking as he watched the messy-haired boy stumble towards him. It was obvious to anyone that James had rushed on his way over. Although his dark hair was almost _always_ a mess, the rest of him looked just as disheveled. The handsome chap noted that James was still wearing the same clothes he had seen him in earlier: though, his shirt was off set from the middle, and the boy's pants were noticeably wrinkled. Even the blank look in his usually bright hazel eyes suggested that he had practically just woken up.

"Slept well, I assume?" greeted Sirius, standing up. The handsome chap wore some rather grand-looking clothes for so early in the morning. "And no, if my memory serves me correctly, I believe I told you my name was Sirius."

James wiped a bit of sweat from his brow before muttering, "Not mad. _Mental._ How long have you been waiting?"

The handsome chap gave a tentative look. "Do you really _want_ to ask that question?"

"Well, I—"

"Forget I said that," interrupted Sirius, smirking as he grabbed his coat, which he had hung on the chair, he had sat in only moments before. "Shall we go then…?"

"W-Wait a moment," sputtered the messy-haired boy, "Go _already_? Don't I get a decent expla—?"

"When we get to your place, I'll answer any question you have for me, mate. But right now, we must be on our way."

Without even a moment's hesitation, Sirius pushed passed him and headed towards the fireplace. James frowned as he watched Sirius lead the way. That was twice the guy had interrupted him while he was speaking, and he was beginning to detest the feeling. Sure, _he_ always managed to interrupt people, but James wasn't really all that accustomed to being interrupted by other people. Perhaps it was it karma? He shrugged at the thought of it; _perhaps I ought to be more considerate from now on…?_ He kind of doubted that he'd be able to do it though. Shrugging at the mere thought that he was taking orders from a hotshot (or in his mind, a copycat), he followed after the tall and strapping young master of the Black family till they came to the hunchbacked old keeper of the fireplace.

"To his house, please," stated Sirius, looking at James over his shoulder.

The hunchbacked man had a peek around at James before swishing his wand over a long roll of parchment that had been tacked to the side of fireplace. Without even having to ask, the parchment suddenly had both of their names and James's address neatly printed on it. The man then took from his table a pouch of—no doubt—floo powder and handed it to the boys. Sirius took is graciously, and then tossed at James.

"Can you be a good lad and toss the powder?"

James stared. _What? _Was Sirius trying to tell him what to do now, too? Just as he was about to retort something, in his opinion to be, relatively mean and excruciatingly rude right back at the handsome chap, the fireplace suddenly burst into flames all by itself. Someone new had just arrived at the _Leaky Cauldron._ Much to James's amazement, as the newcomer wore practically the same style of clothes as the friend who was ordering him around. Their coats even bore the same insignia upon it. On further inspection, this boy seemed to have the same features as Sirius as well only slightly younger-looking. James couldn't help but rub his eyes; he couldn't tell if his mind was playing tricks on him or not.

The newcomer turned his head towards Sirius and greeted, "I knew I'd find you here."

Sirius, on the other hand, paid the boy no mind and flashed a look at James. "You weren't fast enough," he muttered crossly.

James shrugged, not really having the heart to retort anything. Instead, he turned to the boy Sirius had ignored: "Uhm, who are you?"

"That's Regulus," answered Sirius, suddenly, before the other could respond. "My younger brother. We really should go—"

"_Go_?" mouthed James, blinking between the two siblings. "But didn't your brother just—?"

"Sirius, I brought your things," interrupted Regulus, lifting the bag that had been hanging off his shoulder. It was quite apparent to James that Sirius's brother wasn't talking to anyone else but Sirius; he hadn't even _glanced_ at him since arriving. He was talking as if James wasn't even there! "I wasn't planning on sticking around…"

"Oh, well, thanks," murmured the elder brother, taking his bag from Regulus. "…Mum'll be mad if she finds out—"

Regulus raised an open palm to stop Sirius from finishing his sentence. "She won't," he stated, simply, before turning to the hunchbacked old man: "Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

As soon as the boy said this, the fireplace suddenly sparked alive with green flames. James gapped in pure amazement. _How the bloody hell did that happen?_ Neither Regulus nor the old hunchback had moved and nor did anyone toss in the Floo Powder yet; so then why? Why did the fireplace suddenly come alive with flames like that? Was there another new arrival…? No. No one was coming out…

Regulus took a few steps toward the flames before looking back at his brother to remind him: "_Toujours pur_." And then he stepped into the fireplace and was swallowed by the fire.

* * *

"What was _that_ all about?"

James stumbled out of his fireplace and onto his living room floor. Almost as soon as Regulus had gone, Sirius began to act even weirder than he already had. He had grabbed the Floo Powder from James's mitts and practically spilled it all over the place as he threw it into the fireplace back at _Leaky Cauldron_. Thankfully the powder wasn't combustible outside of the fireplace, so no one was harmed when it spewed onto a nearby table and a family of wizards passing by. He had also hurriedly ushered James into the green flames against the messy-haired boy's will. The next thing James knew, he was spinning in a sea of flames and stumbling out of his fireplace back home. Not even a few seconds had passed and Sirius came walking out of his fireplace as well, looking as pale as the moon outside.

"Do I get an explanation yet?" asked James, as Sirius bent over to help him up.

Sirius shrugged. "I suppose. I just wish you came earlier… We could have avoided this."

"Avoided _what_? And what was that your brother said before he left…? Torch poo?"

The last statement actually made the handsome chap laugh. The color immediately returned to his skin, and he smirked back at James. "It's _toujours pur_, mate."

James frowned. "Same thing. What language is that anyway?"

"French."

"So… your family's French?"

Sirius stared blankly at James, not knowing whether to hit him or laugh some more. "No—Well, I don't know really. There are a lot of people named 'Black' after all. I could be part Mongolian and not know it, if yeh get me. "

James nodded in agreement at this. "What's it mean?"

"Always pure," answered someone that was obviously _not_ Sirius Black. Sirius's mouth hadn't moved at all to answer, so James had a pretty good idea that it wasn't him (unless the guy was trying to throw him off). "Now… James, you know better than to sneak out of the house so early in the morning without telling anyone."

The two boys hesitated before turning their heads to see who had found them out. It had actually been James's father, Charlus Potter, who now stood in the doorway looking warily at the two boys. He wore his bathrobe, meaning he had accidentally stumbled upon them while either on the way to the loo or the refrigerator.

"S-Sorry…" James murmured, rumpling his hair embarrassedly. "Uh… Dad, this is Sirius."

"Pleasure to meet you, Sirius," said Charlus bowing slightly, a bright smile on his face. "Please make yourself at home. Any friend of my son's is warmly welcomed here."

Sirius bowed slightly. "T-Thank you, sir."

Charlus seemed to smile back at Sirius, but then turned just a little stern when his eyes came upon his son. James felt a slight chill crawl up his back as their eyes met. Upon seeing that he had succeeded in scaring the crap out of his own son, his dark eyes soften and a wide smile pressed against his old face.

"I'm not mad. _But_ next time, leave a note, okay?"

At this statement, Charlus hobbled out of the doorway and toward whatever destination he had been heading towards before he stumbled upon the two. James let out an exasperated sigh at seeing his father leave them. He scratched the side of his face, and then sheepishly turned back to his guest who had been staring at him for some time, amusement evident in his gray eyes.

"Shove it," muttered James, before Sirius could say anything.

Sirius tried muffling his laughter, but he couldn't hide it completely. James, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and led the way out of the living room and into the hallway. The handsome chap actually didn't stop laughing until they began walking up the grandeur Potter staircase. It was evident to anyone who merely walked through the house that the Potters were pretty darn well off. Sirius could almost gander that James wouldn't even _need_ to work after he graduated from Hogwarts. His parents seemed nice enough, after all.

"You're house is very open," said Sirius, finally, as they treaded down yet another hallway. "Mine's kind of cramped and really… dark."

James cocked his head to one side. "Dark? Like how dark?"

"Like dungeon dark. My parent's aren't really fans of interior decorations. _Woah_—wicked room."

By this time, they had turned into James's homely quarters. Sirius couldn't help but awe at the amount of Quidditch stuff that hung from the walls. There were zooming brooms all over the walls of almost every team out there; to his amazement, it didn't look messy at all. It was evident that little James Potter had quite literally taken a _lot_ of time just putting everything together so it would look fantastic. The handsome chap had most definitely undermined James's love for Quidditch. This was_ more_ that anyone could have possibly even imagined. Sirius didn't even think _this _real. I just couldn't be. Can people really be _that_ obsessed…?

James sunk down on his bed, a grin prominent on his face. "Thanks. It took me a while to convince Dad to make the ceiling transparent, though. But I _really _needed it. It adds to the effect, yea?"

Sirius only nodded, glancing around. There were so many things to see. He felt entertained just by _being_ in that room.

"Here, I'll give you a tour," exclaimed the messy-haired boy. "That wall—" He pointed the one in front of him, the one to the right of Sirius and the door. "—Is reserved for Quidditch articles. And this wall—" He pointed to the one behind him, which was full of hanging shelves, "—has all of the latest Quidditch appliances out on the market, except the brooms, of course, they're not appliances. The wall beside you—" he pointed again, "That's also saved for appliances and things that would help you take care of your broom."

It took Sirius a while before he had finally gotten a handle of what James was explaining to him. His head just kept turning around at everything there was in his new friend's room. It was almost like a Quidditch shop! The only difference was that nothing was on sale. The room was filled, even the parts where shelves hung, there were pictures, posters, and wall scrolls hanging behind them so that there wasn't a single spec of wallpaper to be seen. Sirius couldn't even _tell_ if James's had wallpaper. It was impossible to confirm without at least tearing down one or two pictures. There was, however, one part of the room, on the wall between James's two windows at the far end that was empty. It had nothing upon it save for four consecutive hooks up and down the wall in a line.

It took him a while to get to that part of the room, but Sirius noticed the empty spot eventually. James's wallpaper had been a shade of light blue with white. His wallpaper had been sky-colored.

"What's this for?" he questioned, poking at the hooks. "There's a whole set of these hooks…"

James smirked. "That's reserved for my broomstick. I mean, broomstick_s_."

Sirius stared hard at the hooks on the wall, then to all of the things on the walls, and the finally back at James. "You mean you don't even _have_ a broomstick yet…?"

At this, James lay back on his bed, frowning. "I _do_ have one. Well, I _had_ one, really…" he started, voice growing relatively weaker. "Bloody letter. You know the policy at Hogwarts 'bout brooms, don't you?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Mum thinks that I'll sneak my broom into my luggage and bring it with me to school, so she confiscated it," he scathed, angrily. "_Not till second year_ she tells me. Can you believe her…?"

"_Would_ you sneak it into school?" Sirius asked, raising and eyebrow.

James sat up at this, face unreadable. "Of course I would! I had it all planned out, too."

Sirius couldn't help but laugh again. James was seriously a strange character. The handsome chap couldn't help but find the guy excessively interesting. He had never met anyone as animated and honest with himself as James was. This was the kind of person he wanted to be around. He could get used to having this messy-haired, Quidditch obsessed, eleven-year-old boy as his friend.

"I wish my parents were as giving as yours are," he said, finally, leaning against the pane of the window. "Mine are absolutely… I don't know the word for it. Unforgiving?"

"That bad, huh?" mused James, shrugging. "Don't worry, mate, I'm sure it's they're way of showing affection."

Sirius gave James a look. "You don't know them. They're a lot like Bellatrix. You're lucky not meeting them. _Believe_ me, James."

"I'll take your word for it," chimed James. He paused a moment to walk over to his bed before bringing it up again: "So... exactly why were you in such a rush to leave?"

The messy-haired boy had tried putting off the topic for the longest time, but now, of all times, seemed to be better than never.

Sirius merely shrugged in response, taking a seat on the bed as well. "...Kind of a long story."

"We have all day," quipped the other. He looked down at the floor and blinked, "Quaffle? Are you still awake? Can you put a second mattress here for me?" _Crack_. It was done; the mattress was laid out on the floor with matching Nimbus Company covers to boot.

Sirius was about to get off of the bed and onto the mattress when James got to it first.

"Who ever said it was for you?" said James, smuggling looking up and the handsome chap. "Now, continue. You were about to explain...?"

The handsome chap couldn't help but laugh. He never figured James to be like this when he first met him in Diagon Alley; it was readable all over his face how delightedly stunned he was. The boy seemed to be a good person to confide in, he felt comfortable here. Ten hundred times better than he ever did in the confines of _his_ home.

"Quite honestly, though," he began, leaning back against the bed. "I don't see why I have to explain it, really. You already met Bellatrix... That should be enough explanation for you. She told my mum that I almost ratted her out to the Ministry, and in turn, I got hell. You know, the typically day in our proud pureblood family—"

"_Hey_, we're a proud pure blood family, too," interrupted James, frowning. "Did you tell your mum that your cousin was near _Knockturn Alley_, hurting an innocent person?"

Sirius laughed sarcastically. "Of course I did. But all she said was that Pettigrew had it coming for running into a Black and not showing any respect... Blah, blah, blah... 'Probably and ingrateful half-blood or mudblood!'"

"How does it matter if he's half-blood or from a muggle family? _And _Pettigrew's pureblood."

"I _know_, mate," he countered, "But I couldn't even get my mother to stop shouting. When she gets going, you can't stop her. She's like a terrible pixie when she gets mad. My ears are still ringing from the sound of her voice!"

* * *

The morning sunlight came in much too early for the two boys that morning. It rolled in through the transparent ceiling and etched through the holes in their blankets. Several times, they tossed and turned in their beds, hoping to get a little more sleep, but to no avail. The light was already penetrating their eyelids.

"One of the disadvantages," grumbled James, sitting up to stretch. "Slept well?"

Sirius yawned loudly. "More or less," he replied, "You're bed's amazingly comfortable."

James pushed his blanket off him, and got up. He had slept on the floor and offered Sirius the bed that morning—he was just trying to be a good host, after all. He kind of struggled to his feet, but somehow managed after a time. He stretched a little more before Mrs. Dorea Potter came through the door to greet them both a good morning.

"Morning, boys," she said, cheerfully, "Puffle already set the table for you late risers, so you better get to it before she cleans it up. Oh—and this just came." At this she held up a letter. "I believe it's from the other boy you were with yesterday?"

"Pettigrew?"

The two of them walked toward Mrs. Potter and took the letter from her before she wandered out. Sirius opened it, and James unfolded the parchment for them both to read. There wasn't much substance in the letter, and there appeared to some wrong spelling and grammar here and there. Sirius wondered aloud whether or not the boy had been taught at home how to write:

_Pott,_

_I don't think I can come today. Mm sorrie… Tell Black I said hi._

_Peter Petigrew_

James blinked. "Did he spell his name wrong?"

"Double T, there, I think," agreed Sirius, shrugging. "Shall we write him back?"

Upon hearing that, James's face seemed to light up. "He'd love that, I'm sure. You ought to write it this time, though, mate. He fancies you best, after all."

Sirius seemed to shudder. "_Please_ don't use the word 'fancy' in such an awkward way."

_Well, it's only true,_ thought James, inwardly. This thought made him laugh, but refused to explain himself when Sirius asked what was so amusing. After writing a letter they could _both_ agree on and sending it on its way with Cinder, the two eventually wound their way to the kitchen. The entire way, the two were chatting intensely about practically anything and everything that came to their minds. They were so into their conversation, they had completely forgotten about their empty stomachs until they came upon the filled table. The both of them could almost feel the drool dripping from the sides of their open mouths.

"Well, you _should _be hungry, it's almost one in the afternoon, boys," exclaimed Charlus, smiling widely at the two. "Tuck in."

Sirius took the nearest seat to him, while James took the one closest to his father. They tucked in, all right, and they finished it as quickly as they sat down. Mr. Potter couldn't help but watch them as they engulfed a deck of chocolate chip pancakes and waffles with syrup and orange juice. The very next moment, the two were leaning back in their seats, rubbing their full stomachs. It was a good brunch. The two made mental notes to thank Puffle for the wonderful meal.

Getting up from their seats, almost in unison, they took their plates to the sink where Mrs. Potter took their plates and enchanted them to clean themselves. She smiled brightly at the two of them and messed their hair approvingly. Sirius, who wasn't quite used to having his groomed hair messed up by an adult, immediately fixed it afterwards, while James let it be. He grinned widely at his mum and then led the way into the library part of the house.

"No wonder your hair's always a mess," laughed Sirius, still fixing his hair.

James frowned. "That's not my mum's influence. I was born like this—if you can imagine."

The handsome chap seemed to shudder at that thought. "You were born with a full head of hair?"

"According to me Dad I was… This mess," he ruffled his hair, "Even when I cut it or comb it down, it just goes back to being messy again."

"Enchanted hair, you have then, mate. Don't envy you in the least!"

The library area wasn't as big as James would have liked it to be, but it _did_ have a lot of knowledgeable things upon its shelves. He quite wished that his parents hadn't given away some of their books to friends and relatives on birthdays and during Christmas. Charlus and Dorea Potter were a bit lazy when it came to searching for appropriate gifts. Giving out things they didn't really need anymore, but where still in tiptop condition, were among the things they would do when a close relative reached that certain age. They wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyway.

"You're not a book-hater, are you?" asked James, pulling down a book on Quidditch in Africa. "I tend to spend a lot of time in here."

"I'm not, but my family's doesn't like reading much either," Sirius explained, pulling down a book on Celestial Beings, "Only when they have to. They want news, important things."

James nodded his head, but said nothing in reply. He was already absorbed in the material he had picked out. He stood there moving nothing but his eyes across the page. Sirius was in the same state, though, majority of his book had illustrations. They went on like that for almost four hours straight, moving from book to book, till finally James got his hands on Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Themby _Newt Scamander_, one that he had already read previously.

"Brilliant," murmured Sirius over James's shoulder, "That's the oldest edition, isn't it?"

The messy-haired boy looked at the book, "You can tell by the look of it, huh? It's pretty beat up—"

"No, I mean, they just released a newer version of it," explained the handsome chap, "It has an introduction by Albus Dumbledore. We had to buy it, remember? It's in our Hogwarts list."

James flipped through the thin book and looked around it, but found nothing written by any Dumbledore person. "Dumbledore, huh? Isn't he Hogwart's new Headmaster?"

"Yeah, pretty cool, right? My mum doesn't think so, though, she fancied Grindelwald..."

They both flipped through the book going back and forth between pages. James couldn't help but point out the few creatures he would both love and hate to meet while Sirius gave minor commentary to each one pointed out.

"I'm beginning to think your mum fancies everything that's strange," started James finally flipping to the second to last page of the book. "Oh! Werewolves. I'll bet it'd be fun to run into one of them."

"Only if you want to get killed," added Sirius, leaning sitting down on the hard, wood floor. "I wonder what Dumbledore's like in person… Must be sinister if he was able to defeat Grindelwald."

"Beyond me, my mum said he's a rather amazing warlock, though."

Night came faster than either of them could have possibly anticipated and, as did the next night and the night after that. Before they knew it was already almost midnight on the fourth day since Sirius's arrival, and Dorea Potter came in suggesting that they get some earlier shuteye lest they wished to wake up late again. Much to their chagrin, they figured that what Mrs. Potter suggested was right, and they reluctantly put away their books. James had to climb up to the top shelf to put back a book on nifty spells for the common wizard while Sirius waited patiently by the door.

"What do you say to Diagon Alley tomorrow afternoon?" asked James, clambering down. "Maybe Pettigrew can come this time too."

Sirius nodded, turning to walk out of the library as James came up behind him. "Brilliant minds think a like, I say."

* * *

It was hard to tell whether or not it was the look on his parents' faces or the strange dream he had the night before that had James frowning the following morning. He didn't seem to be in the right mood for anything that morning, and Sirius was able to tell just by the look at the messy-haired boy's contorted face. He had _definitely_ gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that day. The handsome chap didn't want to go anywhere near James's raging path; he might as well commit suicide instead—it was practically the same thing anyway.

"What do you mean we can't go out?" gapped James, crossing his arms like a little kid.

Dorea Potter gave a worried glance over at her husband before staring down at her pouting son. The woman had already tried explaining to James the situation, but it seemed like _that_ sort of explanation didn't suit him at all. The Potter boy didn't like being kept away from his original plans, especially when he was going to personally invite Pettigrew over after they met up. But now, all his hopes and excitement had just been shattered like he had taken a bludger right in the kisser. Since when did his parents _ever_ say no to him? To going out? Weren't they the ones who had insisted, only days ago, that he should visit Diagon Alley on his own…?

Sirius put a hand on James's shoulder. "Give it up, mate," he said, sighing, "It's not worth it."

James shrugged off Sirius's comforting hand and glared hard up at his mum and dad.

"Why?" he gasped. "Sirius'll be with me… I'll be good—!"

"Not today, James Ignotus Potter," stated Charlus, words hard and crisp. The kind of words a child might wince at when he or she knew they were getting scolded. "Do you hear me?"

Knowing that he could not defeat his father in an argument, James retreated back into the library with a very reluctant-looking Sirius following behind. Hazel eyes stared hard back at the door they had just come from as he slumped down onto the far sofa against the wall; James was beginning to throw a temper tantrum.

"Fine!" cried James; so loud that he was sure that his parents could here him in the other room. "Just _fine_! Sirius 'n I can have loads of fun at home, too. _Right_, mate?"

The messy-haired boy's words were almost as intimidating as his father's. Sirius could do nothing but nod his head slowly, hoping only for something good to come out of this.

At seeing young Black so 'eager' at having _loads of fun_ at home, James's angered disposition slackened slightly and a soft smile brushed his lips. At least their not being allowed to go hadn't made the handsome chap disappointed or angry. James had been extremely worried that Sirius would hate him because of his parents. After all, he had just made his first Hogwarts friend! He didn't want to lose that even before they _went_ to Hogwarts!

"Arigh'. In that case…Quaffle!" exclaimed James, jumping up. "Quaffle and bat, please!"

At the very instant the boy had finished his sentence, a loud _pop_ resounded in the midst of the library. Sirius jumped at the mere sound of it and instantly began tracing for the whereabouts of the racket. Before the well-groomed boy had come upon the source, however, what James held in his hand caught stole his attention immediately. Just as the messy-haired boy had called for, in his hands he now held a quaffle and what looked to be a Quidditch bat.

"Where the bloody hell did _those_ come from?"

James smirked, but completely ignored Sirius's question. "Up for some Qui-Hitting?"

At this question, Sirius stared. "W-What? Now? _Here_…?"

"Of course! Where else do yeh think I meant?"

"I don't _know_," interjected the handsome chap, obviously irritated, "Outside maybe?" There seemed to be a hint of sarcasm somewhere in his words.

James laughed heartily at the other's ignorance. Sirius, on the other hand, frowned profusely.

"Mum said we can't go out, remember?" he recalled, rubbing his chin. "So we can play _inside_ today."

"You're bloody mad, James."

James smirked, tossing the quaffle up and down in his hand. Each time he tossed it, he'd catch it with little effort due to his quick reflexes. He was beginning to flaunt his skills again. "I'm bloody serious," he stated, calmly, before throwing it towards Sirius at full power. The handsome chap barely had a chance to get ready as the ball whizzed at him; had he not caught it at the last second, it would have hit him square in the nose. Putting the quaffle on his lap, Sirius stared dumbfounded at James. _I can't believe this! This fool is really serious!_ He couldn't help but feel the overwhelming sense of 'I-really-don't-think-we-are-allowed-to-do-this' as he watched James swing the large bat around, barely missing the bookshelves by mere centimeters.

"Well, get up, then," urged the messy-haired boy, grinning widely, as he took another swing with the bat. This time it barely missed lowest hanging chandelier in the spacious, yet crowded library. "Wanna play Beater? Or would you rather play chaser—?"

"You're absolutely _insane_."

"And you think you're not? Com'_on_! I'm _bored_."

Sirius's dumbfounded expression went pallid. "You've _got_ to be kidding me... And _plus_ isn't playing Quidditch indoors against your family's house rules, mate?"

At this, James sat down on the floor. He could tell this conversation was going to be a long one. "Maybe for _your _family," he mused, placing the tip of the bat under his chin so he could rest on it. "I mean, your mum doesn't even allow you to set foot in a Quidditch _store_ for Merlin's sake! My family has _no_ house rules."

"Oh, really?" questioned Sirius, cocking his eyebrow upward. "Then what's _that_ on the wall?"

James casually glanced over at a large painting of a large open book that hung at the far end of the room. It was a beautiful painting, really, and the young Potter boy quite liked it in the library best. For some odd reason, that same type of painting happened to be in every single room of the Potter house, and now that Sirius mentioned it, James hadn't really realized it until that point. He just thought that his parents liked those types of paintings—the kind that doesn't move. They were the only paintings in the house that weren't enchanted. The colors were brilliant enough already; it really allowed the scripted writing to stand out.

"Didn't you even bother reading the script?"

James shrugged. "No. Why? It's just another girly poem, isn't it?"

"That," griped Sirius, pointedly. "_Girly _poem happens to be your house rules, James. Your parents—probably your mum—just made the things sound poetic. You know, if you at _least_ read the first line James, you'd have realized it. Shall I recite it…? _No playing indoors, young Potters_…"

As Sirius read on and on, James found himself staring blankly at the painting itself. All the information the handsome chap had just told him had to be some sort of mistake. He had never heard about any of this before! He'd been living in this house for almost eleven and a half years, and he hadn't noticed…?

"…_And lastly, I tell you, young boys and girls, the things you do in life may lead to great misfortune, but hold your head up high and keep your chin straight. There will come a time when these rules shall come in great use to you_—James? Mate, you feeling alright?" Just as Sirius was about to finish the poetic household rules he saw out of the corner of his eyes that James had begun to shake uncontrollably. Startled, he rushed over to the messy-haired boy and placed his hands on James's shoulders: his eyes were staring out blankly towards the painting. "James! James! Snap out of it!"

There was no response. James's head moved about limply as he was shook and Sirius had half a mind to rush over to get Mr. and Mrs. Potter until he finally saw the light shine back in those hazel eyes.

"James, mate, are you still with me?"

Hearing Sirius's voice, James raised his head and gripped the other's arm, hard. He almost looked like he was about to cry.

"W-What's wrong?"

He sniffed softly. "I-I didn't know…"

"Know what, James, what?"

"We have _rules_!" After expelling his emotions, James began to wail. "This is the worst! Though, it's not like I'll follow them... but _still..._"

Sirius let out a loud sigh of relief and fell back on the hardwood floor. Rolling his eyes, the handsome chap couldn't help but laugh cynically. "I kind of feeling like wailing myself, mate. You're giving me the worst _headache_ of my life. You and your selfish mood swings!"

James stopped wailing, and looked back at Sirius. He grinned widely this time, obviously proud of himself. He had made Sirius _so_ worried about him after all. He never thought the young heir to the Black family name would stoop low enough to be concerned with the likes of himself. Normally _real_ pureblood families only lived for themselves. They'd take pleasure in your utter demise, and only coax it. James could tell that Sirius wasn't that kind of person. Even though he had just been fooling around, the messy-haired boy actually found out something he hadn't expected to find out. _Sirius could actually have the qualities of a Gryffindor…_ he thought with a smile. If only lineage had nothing to do with what house you'd be sorted in to. James would have done anything in whole world to get the handsome chap into the same house as him. It would make things a lot easier between them, anyway.

* * *

"What did Pettigrew say?"

James shrugged, placing the letter on top of the small pile of other letters from Peter. He shook his head at Sirius, and then sunk back on the wooden floor of the owlery.

It was already the sixth day since Sirius's first arrival at the Potter house, and the young Black had just about run out of clothes to wear. He would only have one pair of pajamas for the night and one last clean shirt, pants, and other personal wear items for tomorrow before he'd have to head home. Because of this, they were really hoping that young Peter would be allowed to spend at least _one_ night over before the vacation came to an end. Sure, they had been sending owls back and forth (so much so that Cinder was getting her daily exercise doubled), but both James and Sirius were really adept to getting Pettigrew to come over.

"Yeh think he hates us?" asked Sirius, flipping through the stack of letters.

"Maybe," sighed James, messing with his hair again. "We ought to make it up to him, don't you think? When we get to Hogwarts, I mean."

Sirius frowned. "Do we _have_ to?" James gave him the look, and Sirius backed off the topic immediately. "I was only kidding, mate. Anyway, I'm sure Pettigrew would—"

_Thud!_ Something from the other room had fallen. The two boys looked at each other and then back towards the entrance of the library, peering as much as they could into the other room as they the doorway permitted. They stared at the open doorway for a few brief seconds before engaging in another round of conversation when—

"_Darling_!" Mrs. Potter screamed from the other room. The urgency in her voice made James jump up; he had never heard his mother's voice so shaken before. "D-Darling, Darling! Are you all right…?"

Without even saying a word to Sirius, James rushed out of the library and down the hallway. His head turned to look into each room he passed and didn't stop until he came upon the open doorway in which he spied both his mother and father.

"Charlus… " Murmured Dorea, helping her husband onto the couch. "…What happened at work? Or was it—"

"I'm afraid so," he replied, "Yesterday's incident and now _this_—?" Charlus suddenly stopped mid-sentence the moment his hazel eyes locked with his son's. "_Oh_—James, didn't see you there."

By this time, Sirius had come around too, so the two boys went inside together. James's eyes remained fixed on his father's. They were accusing eyes. Probing eyes. It was obvious to _anyone_ that the boy wanted to know what had just happened. His father had just come home from work… but something had happened. _Why'd they stop talking as soon as they saw me…?_ He couldn't figure it out.

"Is he all right?" Sirius asked Mrs. Potter, "We heard you screaming from the library."

Charlus gave his wife a sharp look, an obvious sign to be careful with her words. James understood the look without even having to ask.

"I-It was nothing," she said, fumbling with her hands. "He just collapsed—"

"What happened at the Ministry?" questioned James, trying to get to the heart of where the problem lay.

This question brought silence between all of them. Charlus and Dorea looked away from each other, completely unwilling to spill the news to their too-young-a-son. Sirius, on the other hand, was completely lost. He was beginning to feel a little out of place now. Not really knowing what to do, he shrunk back behind James to allow their son to take handle this situation. It wasn't _his_ place to interfere anyway. This was a Potter problem. A Black shouldn't intervene…

"Sirius," said James, steadily, "Shall we go see if the mail's in?"

Sirius's mouth dropped. "What?"

"Mother, Father," the messy-haired boy grabbed Sirius by the wrist, "I beg you'll excuse us. We shall go fetch the mail so it's not so much a hassle for you." He sounded like too much of a good little boy; it was beginning to gross even Sirius out.

After excusing himself, he raced out of the room, with Sirius dragging along behind, at an even faster pace than when he had heard his mother's scream with. At the time he had heard the loud thud and his mother's panicked voice, James had felt a slight bit of reluctance while searching for them. Half of him wanted to know what happened, but the other half was little unsure about knowing whether or not something had happened to his father. He didn't want to see his father hurt.

_This_ time, however, was a totally different story. The boy's whole being wanted to know now. Not even a fraction of him was unsure or nervous. He wanted to know what his parents were trying to hide from them. From their very own son. His curiosity had peaked considerably since yesterday.

The two sped off toward the owlery, well; actually, Sirius was barely able to keep up with James. The boy's glasses nearly fell off the bridge of his nose as he quite literally ran through the hallways of his house. He was scrambling to get to upstairs! Being tugged along, Sirius nearly tripped a few times and even hit his shoulder on the wall as they turned one of the corners. Whatever James was after, he in too much of a hurry for the handsome chap to even pass a word through to him.

"Slow down!" Sirius cried, missing the enchanted grandfather clock by a hair. "Why are you in such a hurry to get that _blasted _mail anyway?"

The other didn't respond. James's mind was in too much of a panic to even comprehend the letters in each word his 'luggage' has cried out. His silence really began to infuriate the one being dragged along. Just as Sirius was about to hit James on the side of the head to snap out of it, they came to an abrupt stop. They had finally arrived at the Potter owlery. They had been moving so fast that when James stopped suddenly, Sirius was thrown at his feet.

James blinked. "Huh? Did you say something, mate?"

Sirius cast a dark look up at James. "What's the big deal? Just _why_ are you in such a hurry to get the BLASTED mail?"

As Sirius struggled to his feet, James walked near to the place where Cinder was situated. In a box, just to the left of his owl, was a small bin marked 'INBOX' already semi-filled with letters of all shapes and sizes. Quickly and swiftly, he sifted through the letters as though he was looking for something. It didn't take long to find what he had been looking for. As soon as he caught sight of it, he pulled it up and spread it out on the floor for the both of them to see.

"That isn't…" muttered Sirius kneeling down next to James, "The _Daily Prophet_? We sprinted all the way up here to read the _news_?" He smacked James upside the head before grunting.

"Relax, mate, we didn't just come up here to _read_," James grumbled back, scanning the paper right to left and then up and down. "There _must_ be something in this paper that'll tell about that little secret me mum and dad have been trying to hide. If something's up with the Ministry of Magic, it'd be in the news, right? I'll bet you five galleons that's the reason why we weren't allowed out yesterday."

Sirius shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't have five galleons on me. You're speaking with the only broke child in the Black family, just so you know."

James tried concealing a smile at that thought, but his efforts were poorly carried out. The handsome chap hit him on the side of the head once more for good measure.

"Sirius, have a look at this!"

Frowning, Sirius followed obediently and glanced down at the article the messy-haired boy had pointed out with his finger. The headline read 'COUPLE FOUND DEAD'. The headline, itself, was enough to make the hair on the back of their necks rise. An innocent couple had been found dead…? When? Where? What did _that_ have anything to do with them _or_ the Ministry, for that matter? There was nothing else in the _Prophet_ that indicated any source of alarm…

"Hey, James," whispered Sirius, mouth slightly dropped. "Says here they found seven unidentified muggle bodies at the scene too…"

James blinked. "Muggles?" He began skimming through the article for any other interesting facts, and he quickly came across it. "Charing Cross Road? Isn't _Leaky Cauldron_ on that road_…_? No wonder mum… Honestly, though, what does this have to do with—Oy, Sirius?"

It seemed like it was young Black's turn to suddenly turn pale. His dark eyes grew wide with utter horror, never leaving the sight of the article. It wasn't a joke this time, though, and James could tell. Sirius looked almost frightened and yet invigoratingly repulsed out of his wits. The messy-haired boy wasn't going to joke around about it this time.

"What is it, mate?"

Sirius slowly turned his head towards James, eyes still wide with horror. "I think it's about time I went home, James."

* * *

**DUN. DUN. DUUUUN!**

Platform Nine and Three Quarters

* * *

Please don't forget to review

On your way Out :D!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:** Thanks everyone for all the reviews and alerts :)! I really appreciate them. It's really keeping me going with this fanfic. I absolutely love writing about the Marauders! 3~! I know it's been a while since my last update, but hopefully I'll get around to updating again soon. Maybe for Valentine's Day XD! Hope you enjoy this chapter for what it is. I'll try to be a bit more creative! Thanks for all the heads up and tips! :D

* * *

**Platform Nine and Three Quarters**

It was surprise to James how fast it all seemed since meeting Sirius that day in Diagon Alley, and almost as fast as he had come, he was soon stepping into the green flames of the Potter fireplace and on his way home. The decision was made so quickly that neither Charlus nor Dorea could find the right words to send him off properly.

James, too, seemed rather glum about his friend leaving, but was reminded that they'd see each other again in just a mere two more days. That thought was the only thought that was keeping him going. _Two_ whole disturbingly boring days with nothing to do but read and break more house rules. Ever since Sirius had pointed it out to him, James spent most of his time deciphering the poem in the painting and then doing the exact opposite of what was said. Of course, this caused some major problems for his parents, but they didn't really hold it against him. They only told him not to do it again, then joked about it over supper. The boy got away with practically anything and everything. His parents were soft, a little _too_ soft.

Those two days were the most dragging days since his entire existence. Sure, mum and dad allowed him into Diagon Alley the day after Sirius had gone homeward, but it just didn't feel the same without his counterparts. He merely found himself killing time with William at his favorite Quidditch store for most of the day. In all honesty, James wanted the day to end. He wanted it to end fast. Time, as it always seemed at that most crucial moments, was slow and eating at his patience like a dog with raw meat. It did eventually pass, though, and soon enough James finally found himself staring at his calendar in amazement that fateful morning.

"Just one more day," he told himself, placing a nice big X over the 30th. "One more day. This is the last day. Just one more day and I'll be Hogwarts bound by morning…" He repeated that to himself several times over before looking up at his snitch-shaped clock on the wall and cursed himself. "9:23? It's only been two minutes…! Bloody—"

"—_Ehem_!" Mrs. Potter stood in the doorway, her arms akimbo. "You're not counting the seconds _again_, are you, dear?"

James frowned. "I'm counting the minutes, Mum. I don't have a 'second-hand' clock, remember? You wouldn't _let_ me get one."

"And for good reason!" she exclaimed, a smile pressing against her lips, "You'd be staring at that thing all day if it were second-hand. At least with minute-hand you get a chance to look away and come back later, but with seconds! Oh, my, _word_… You'd be standing in front of it all day saying that the time moves too fast and that you have to keep an eye on it. James, why, you'd never let yourself out of your room!"

At this the boy said nothing. Inwardly, he knew what his mother said was true. Mothers, after all, knew best no matter how much the boy tried to deny it. Frowning, he grabbed his wand, pocketed it, and then stalked passed his mother to go out into the hallway. He could feel his mother's eyes following the back of his head as he walked in the direction of the owlery; _what is with mothers these days?_ Dorea was being exceptionally nosy today; she had even turned and followed her son down the hallway.

"_Yes_, mum?"

Dorea stopped a little behind her son. "Hm?" her voice seemed to quirk almost amusingly, "Nothing, darling. Why the inquiry?"

"Mm… Nothing."

James continued down the hallway, but kept his ears open for his mother's footsteps following him. He wasn't entirely sure if she was following him or going her own way, but she neither stirred down the stairs nor turned any opportune corners, and it was this that was beginning to make the boy feel relatively uneasy. There _was_, however, always the case that Mrs. Potter was going to owl someone as well, but he highly doubted such was the case. Dorea was never one to write letters nor was she the type to read them, usually it was her husband who took care of those things. But, then, why would his mother have to keep an annoyingly close eye on him anyway? Did he do something to merit the undivided attention?

"Mum?" he asked, suddenly, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Why, of course, dear?"

"You're not…following me around, are you?"

Mrs. Dorea Potter's footsteps suddenly stopped, James couldn't hear the quiet taps of her slippers on the floor behind him. Curious, he turned around to face her, but was suddenly startled when she suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. She was laughing so hard that her face had turned red. Her son couldn't help but stare in complete bewilderment. What in all the Wizarding World had become of his mum…?

She waved her hand childishly. "Oh goodness, _no_, James," she exclaimed, wiping her eyes. "Of course not! Can't I pay a visit to my own owlery without having my own son accuse me…?"

These words made James almost want to sink into the floorboards. _Almost._ The boy could almost sense the wee bit of sarcasm in his mother's tone. It was always really hard to tell when or when she wasn't being serious; she didn't put much effort in the sarcastic intonation, but he thought he caught a hint of it. Just a hint of sarcasm was enough to make him skeptical. He turned back towards his destination and finally entered through the door to the owlery.

Almost as soon as James had stepped in, his mother whizzed passed him and headed toward the large pile of Inbox waiting for her. Peculiarly enough, she didn't take the entire pile like her husband would; instead, she simply picked up the newest issue of the _Daily Prophet_ that had just come in. It had been lying cleanly at the top of the pile. With a prominent smile on her face she quickly tucked it under her arm, away from James's view.

James furrowed his brows at her weird actions, but after a few seconds, shrugged it off. Without even a second's glance, he was at the Inbox pile, too, sifting through it like he had the day before. Soon enough, he pulled out the exact same paper and issue his mother had just tucked away under her arm, and plopped down on the floor to read it. Apparently, Mrs. Potter had miscalculated. She forgot that Charlus had subscribed for two copies an issue! Upon seeing what James had taken, his mother's proud expression suddenly paled and she rushed to grab the newspaper from her son. She literally tore it away from him so quickly that part of the paper ripped in her son's fingers.

"T-This one's for your father," she stuttered, face pale, before turning heel and walking out of the room.

This left the messy-haired boy staring at the open doorway, completely stunned. _Never_ had his mother done something like that before. Did she _really _not want him to read the news that badly…? She was the complete opposite of most mothers in all the Wizarding World, that's for sure. Was he supposed to be kept in the dark till he turned the appropriate age or something—? _Just a minute, what am I thinking?_ _I _am_ of age already! I'll be in Hogwarts tomorrow!_ It just didn't seem to make sense to him. First Sirius leaves after reading the paper, and now his mother doesn't even want him _touching_ it? He didn't get it! People got killed, he knew as much, but what did he miss? Why were his parents _and_ Sirius taking it like it had something to do with _them_?

After the encounter with his mom that morning, James had eventually wandered back into his room during the course of the day. He was lying on his floor, staring up at the, now, star-filled sky. The events of the morning had really weighed on him all day. It was so heavy in fact, that the boy didn't notice how much time had passed. In fact, so much time had passed the boy eventually fell asleep on the hard surface of his wooden floor.

The next thing James knew, it was already morning. The rays of the sun had just_ barely_ begun to rise up on his ceiling, but since the boy had nothing to cover himself with, he stirred and woke up. He yawned, loudly, and stretched. He noted that a few parts of his body were sore from the hardwood, and he struggled move. Unwillingly, he got up, stretched some more, took the time to rumple his hair, and then took a glance up at his snitch-shaped clock. 9:24. _Only a minute has passed since—?_

"James!" cried a voice from the doorway. It was his mother again. "What are you still doing in those clothes? Hurry up and fix yourself, would you? The _Hogwarts Express_ leaves at exactly 11 without fail, I hope you know. Do you want to go to Hogwarts or not?"

Upon hearing these words, James's eyes widened with complete astonishment. He hadn't even realized that it was already the next day. It was already September 1! Without even having to count the minutes, it was already time for him to freshen up and get ready. The boy sped out of the room at light speed, nearly causing Mrs. Potter to teeter over, and toward his personal washroom. His mother, after catching her balance once more, watched as her son locked himself in. She couldn't help but smile.

* * *

"Platform nine and three quarters, right…?"

Charlus hobbled along side his son as they walked up King's Cross together in search of the platform described on James's _Hogwarts Express_ ticket. Of course, having gone to the school many years ago, James's father was an expert at locating the platform. Even when muggle eyes could be deceived, nothing could escape the eyes of an expert wizard. Being in the Ministry of Magic for many years also gave the man a lot of good experience for locating magically attuned places even without having to look at numbers or being told what to do. There was just _something_ about it that a person can sense. Magically twisted objects and doorways had a different feel than everyday appliances, he told James as they approached the dividing barrier between platforms 9 and 10.

"Do you sense it, James?" he asked, patting his son on the head. Another family of wizards passed them and entered through the barrier as they stood there. "Try closing your eyes. It might help." James obeyed, even as a few muggles and a few other witches and wizards passed them by. "That's a boy! Now search for the core of the object. Sense it _there_…?"

James could almost feel a sort of warmth emanating from the barrier between the two platforms. The sort of warmth you get when friction is applied between two objects. Magic, too, had to follow _some_ ranges of the universal laws of gravity. Wizards had their own curious scientists too.

"Now try and compare it with this one," at this Charlus turn his son in the direction of the divide between platforms 7 and 8.

The messy-haired boy opened his eyes, and placed his hands back on the trolley he had been pushing. "Feels kind of dull compared to the other one… You can sense all this just by looking at it, Dad?"

His father smiled, smugly. "Takes practice, James," he replied, placing an arm around James's shoulders as they walked steadily toward the divide just as the other wizards and witches had that passed them by. "You'll get the hang of it; it'll come in handy one day, I assure you. Now, come, its almost time for you head off—"

"James! Mr. Potter!" cried a voice from somewhere behind. James's head spun at the direction of the voice; he knew whom it belonged to. Sirius was dressed as sophisticated as usual, pushing a trolley of his own toward them. "Glad to see we made it in time."

It was hard to tell at first glance, but Regulus stood just behind his brother, apparently unwilling to show himself to the Potters. James only caught sight of him when Sirius bent over to catch the cage of his owl before it fell to the floor. The messy-haired boy greeted him with a nod, and miraculously enough, Regulus returned the greeting. He had thought that the younger Black hated him, but this notion of acknowledgement put his speculations to rest.

"This is Regulus Black," he introduced to his father, "Sirius's younger brother."

"Ah… Yes," Mr. Potter confirmed, a smile etching into his aged face. "I've heard a bit about you."

Regulus appeared somewhat taken aback by the sudden introduction, but nodded curtly back at Mr. Potter so as not to show any sort of disrespect. Sirius nudged his brother in the side, and then urged everyone to get on the platform. They each passed through the barrier two at a time: James with his father and Sirius with his brother, and inevitably came into the view of the much famed _Hogwarts Express._

From the moment James laid his eyes upon the train, his heart would not cease hammering. The adrenaline was beginning to pump harder and heavier with each successive pound. He could actually _feel_ himself palpating. The rush was just a totally new high for him. Had Charlus not been there, he would have probably stood staring at the train from the platform as it pulled out of the station. There were so many people there; the place was so much more packed than the muggle platforms. There were students already packed into carriages, while others were out and about saying their final goodbyes to their families.

The whole lot of them, with Charlus leading the way, walked up and down the platform in search of some empty seats for the two new Hogwarts students, and eventually came upon a completely empty carriage towards the near end of the train. It was still a bit early, after all, so not all the carriages were packed like the front cars.

"In you go," chimed James, putting Cinder in first before allowing his father to help load up his trunk. "Thanks, Dad." He then turned toward the two brothers who both seemed to be having a rather difficult time with Sirius's rather bulky-looking luggage. "What did you _put_ in there, mate? Need a hand?"

"T-That would be nice," strained Sirius, as James came around to lift the other end of the luggage.

It was a _lot_ heavier than it looked. Even with three people loading it up at the same time, they all broke into a sweat just trying to lift it. They didn't actually get it up until Charlus had come around to give them a hand.

Regulus seemed to be the most tired out of the lot of them. "I-I," he heaved, trying to slow his breathing, "I told you not to put too much."

"Oh, shut up, would you?" muttered Sirius, frowning. "Better safe than sorry, I say."

The two brothers laughed in unison, and James couldn't help but smile at them. The messy-haired boy had always wondered what it would feel like to have a sibling. Seeing Sirius and Regulus together, only made his curiosity peak. Unconsciously, he looked at his father and shrugged. Charlus managed to catch his son's eye before turning away, and simply nodded his head.

By this time, the clock at the high end of the train had turned 10:50, and the train's loud whistle blew it's warning signal before depature. Regulus shook his brother's hand before trotting off in the direction of the muggle platforms, and Charlus gave his son one last pat on the head before stepping back to let a few other students into the other empty compartments along the train. With both Charlus and Regulus away, James and Sirius were once again at ease to talk with each other.

"A few more hours and we'll be in Hogwarts…"

The both of them set their minds drifting into their own little world, trying to imagine what Hogwarts was really like.

Just as James was picturing a Quidditch-inspired Great Hall in his mind, another crowd of bustling students came walking passed their compartment. They were so loud that Sirius had a half mind to yell at them to settle down. James laughed at the other's angered expression, but his laughter was suddenly cut short when he caught glimpse of something familiar from the corner of his eye—someone James had met only a few days ago had just walked onto the platform.

"Pettigrew!" James cried, just before a second whistle from the train sounded. Five minutes left before departure. "Pettigrew, over here!"

Sirius, too, got up out of his seat to catch glimpse of the round fellow as he rushed over to their compartment. He was struggling with his trolley, and his face was even paler than the white shirt he wore. It was a rather comical sight, but neither of his friends sat there laughing at him. They willingly got down from the train to help the young lad put his things in their compartment. Pettigrew's owl went in first, of course, followed by his relatively light trunk.

"S-Sorry," he sputtered as he got into the carriage first. "I overslept."

James laughed. "We can see that. You didn't even have a chance to get ready by the look of you."

Peter lowered his head as he allowed Sirius passage into the compartment as well. It was at this moment that Sirius fell back furthest away from the smallest of the three of them, his nose scrunched up. He had the most repulsive look on his usual handsome face.

"Can actually smell you too, mate," he grimaced, breathing through his mouth. "When was the last time you had a decent bath?"

Peter's face turned beet red, and he buried his face in the collar of his shirt.

"Stop teasing him, Sirius," laughed James, climbing in as well. "He was in a rush. At least, let the boy relax a bit before you start criticizing him."

Just as the messy-haired boy sat down, something even redder than Peter's face was caught in his peripheral vision. Calmly, he glanced in the direction of the odd redness and saw that it was the sun's bright rays reflecting onto someone's strangely familiar deep, red hair. He hadn't noticed the color until the person had stepped out into the sunlight. The person—a girl—had, apparently, been hiding in the shadows until that particular moment.

"Hey—It's that girl!" he exclaimed, finally recognizing her. "Evans, I think?" he was responding to the quizzical looks both Pettigrew and Sirius were giving him. "I met her in _Leaky Cauldron_ that one day. Seemed like a bit of a know-it-all. Ye might wanna watch out for her, Sirius, case she turns out to be a Slytherin."

Sirius wrinkled his forehead at the last remark, but due to his long bangs, neither one of his friends took notice of his change in his expression. Silently, the handsome chap shrugged his shoulders, and looked back at the girl in question. She seemed to be chatting quite animatedly with several other companions. Each of them were taking turns getting into an empty compartment about four cars down. Oddly enough, most of her companions seemed to be of the opposite gender, though, there were a few girls too, of course. There was one boy in particular that she seemed to be talking with more consistently than the others. He was a little shorter than she was, and he stood out a lot more than any of her other companions, especially to Sirius.

"_That'_s definitely an insult," grumbled the handsome chap, as though he had seen something excruciatingly revolting.

Pettigrew craned his neck trying to see what Sirius was staring intently at. "What is…?"

James, too, couldn't really see what Sirius was weirdly insulted by, but then again, Evans's annoyingly bright red hair was distracting him from paying attention to much of anything else; all his eyes could see was RED. It was blaring under the bright sun. The messy-haired boy was sure he'd go blind if the girl didn't get into her blasted compartment anytime soon.

"It's an insult to all people with at least a _decent_ sense of fashion, I'd say," spat Sirius, glaring harshly at the last one to hop into the train. "Did you _see_ what the boy was wearing? Even his socks were different! One was striped and the other had spots! One green the other…a sort of blue that I couldn't even recognize!"

Both Peter and James sighed lightly. They had thought the handsome chap had been signally insulted or something. But then again, for someone like Sirius, just by _looking_ at him you could tell what kind of person he was. Or at least the type of family he was from. Well off, and of course, _excruciatingly_ prim and proper. Nothing mismatched, not even a single _strand_ of hair out of place. Even though Sirius had made it clear that he was the white sheep of his Black family, the boy still held a few rather high standards for your average eleven year old.

"I'll be sure to get his name," said James, nodding his head as the final whistle sounded and the _Express_ began to trudge down the tracks. "Oh, and be sure to teach him a thing or two about appropriate attire then, Sirius, once we get to know him. We wouldn't want you nagging to us about the boy for seven years…"

Sirius and James waved out the window at Mr. Potter before the train slowly began to move further and further away from the station. Charlus waved back proudly, as did many other parents, and soon enough, the station was completely out of sight. The steam from the _Hogwarts Express_ seemed to obscure the King's Cross from view. It was either the fake produced steam that would fool muggles, or the morning mist that did it. Either way, the train packed with students was finally on its journey to its final destination: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Sirius frowned. "Why do _I_ have to be the one to teach him?"

"You have the most fashion sense out of the lot of us," stated James, smirking. "Ain't that right, Pettigrew?"

Peter nodded almost simultaneously. One would think that the boy's head would fall off at how hard he seemed to nod.

Since boarding the _Express_ the three of them went about talking about all sorts of things, from Quidditch, to Hogwarts, and even to their favorite assortments of food. The food topic was one that really got Pettigrew into the conversation; the young blonde seemed to perk up at every statement relating to food. From what Sirius and James could gather, the round boy definitely wasn't a food hater. He seemed to have a knack for loving all types of food. There seemed to be nothing he would not love to eat or at least try. Even the prospect of eating pig's blood was something that tickled his fancy.

"In the East, loads of people like to eat things raw," explained Sirius; he had gotten on the topic when James had inquired about his home studies. "Some people, for fun, would twirl live baby octopi around their stick utensils—"

"You mean chopsticks," corrected Pettigrew, staring hungrily at his fingernails.

"Right. Anyway, as I was saying… They'd twirl it around their _chopsticks _and eat them whole. Me mum says that some people have actually _died_ eating them. Muggles, usually, because they don't have magic to pull the bloke out of their throats, but on some occasions, even wizards and witches can't seem to snag those suctions them octopi have on their arms from the person's esophagus."

James furrowed his brow. "Nasty little buggers. That's quite an interesting way to have fun, I'd say."

Just thinking about having _any_ live animal stuck in your throat was enough to make James want to hurl. But then again, that would be a rather interesting way to go. He had a feeling that if he were to die choking on a live octopus in London, it'd be all over the _Daily Prophet_! 'Young Wizard Dies Choking on an Octopus', he could see the headlines bright in his mind. Of course, the messy-haired boy didn't actually _want_ to die just yet. He just turned eleven! He had a whole life ahead of him!

As they continued to chat, the train eventually pulled out of London. It whizzed the students passed plains, fields of cows and sheep, and lanes. The scenery was absolute superb had any of the three taken the time to look, but the whole lot of them were much too busy to even bother looking out the window.

Around half past twelve a little trolley and a woman came along through the corridor of the train and tapped on the door of their compartment. Peter, who was closest, opened the door so that the smiling, dimpled woman could peak into the room a lot easier. Both James and Sirius, who had both read about the _Hogwarts Express_ in several books, knew exactly whom this lady was and exactly what it was that she doing in front of their compartment. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, James suddenly interrupted her.

"We'd love something off the trolley, dear," he said, imitating a woman's voice. He jumped up out of his seat and into the corridor to look at what she was selling. The dimpled woman stared, looking somewhat astonished back at James, but said nothing.

Only moments later, the messy-haired boy came back in with a bunch of sweets carried in his relatively thin arms. The dimpled woman carried on down the corridor, and Pettigrew closed the door as soon as she left. James had bought more than enough for all of them; so much, in fact, that they'd probably be bring a bunch of extras within their pockets when they were to arrive.

"Why'd you buy an extra…?" questioned Sirius, pointing at the four boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "And I'm not much of a fan—"

"Can I have them, Sirius? Oh, _please_, I love those!" cried Pettigrew flailing his arms in extreme delight. "If you don't want your share, can I have it?"

James tried to hide his laughter, but couldn't contain himself the moment he glanced at the handsome chaps somehow twisted face.

"No," stated Sirius, grabbing his share. He pulled out what appeared to be a small stamp from his front pant's pocket and eagerly pressed it against the innocent bottle of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. A bright red Black family insignia could now be seen on the bottle where he had stamped. "You may _not_ have them. It's got my name on it now, see?"

Peter cowered slightly. "B-But I thought you didn't—"

"Just because he doesn't want them, doesn't mean he won't have them," explained James, patting the blonde on the shoulder. "It's alright. Sirius just got a bit of a pride problem, that's all." At this, he snuck a smirk at the handsome chap.

Sirius frowned, but refused to make eye contact with either of his two friends. His deep gray eyes, instead, turned to look outside. He seemed strangely transfixed to the serene scenery beyond the express train. In spite of the handsome boy's composure, however, James knew very well what his silence meant: Pride was definitely one of the Black traits that pulsated clearly through his pure veins.

* * *

None of the three boys had really paid attention to how much time had passed since they'd been on the train, but they assumed that a couple hours had gone by since leaving London. Even though no one had announced anything over the loud speaker, they all had this gut feeling that they were already close to Hogwarts. Almost instinctively, without so much as a look between each other, they got up, pulled their cloaks from their luggage, and then slipped them on.

It was no surprise to anyone that Sirius's cloak looked the best of the lot; it was probable that the cloak was a Black heirloom for it bore the familiar royal insignia that seemed to be on _all_ of Sirius's belongings. James's cloak looked second best because it was new. He had just bought it from _Madam Malkin's_ on their outing the other day, while Peter's was obviously a hand-me-down. The blonde looked a little plumper in the cloak… James could almost swear that the thing was made from shaved animal hide—the furry outer covering seemed to confirm it when he touched it.

Outside the valleys, pastures, and lakes were becoming more and more predominant as time flew by, and it wasn't until someone knocked on the door to their compartment that they noticed that it was also beginning to get dark already. Being the one closest to the doorway, Pettigrew slid it open to see whom it was hovering out in the hallway.

"Y-Yes?" murmured Pettigrew, staring up into the face of a girl none of them had seen before. She was slightly round-faced, and her dirty blonde hair seemed to fall just a little past her shoulders. In all respects, she seemed like a sweet girl from her appearance, though, the word 'cute' seemed to describe her a lot better than the word 'pretty' would.

"Uhm," she fumbled for words as her blue eyes darted from one side of the compartment to the other, as if looking for something. "You fellows must be first years, right? Wouldn't happen to have some extra food to spare, would you…?"

Sirius opened his mouth to retort something (probably to the effect of 'No, I'm not giving my _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans_ to _you_ either!'), but James cut him off just in time to save their necks from a horrible first impression.

"I bought a whole bunch off the trolley a while back," he informed, pointing at the pile of sweets and wrappers that lay between him and Pettigrew. "Any particular preference—?"

"Perfect!" she exclaimed, smiling widely as she clambered into their compartment to take the whole pile (wrappers and all) in her arms. "Hey, I definitely owe you lads—"

"W-What? You're taking all of it—?" gapped Peter, beady eyes looking like they were about to water over.

"Mhm…" she murmured, absentmindedly, as she excused herself from their little compartment, and then without a single word more she was out of sight and dashing back down the hallway.

The three boys stared at the semi-open doorway, minds completely distorted by the girl's random appearance. Not only had she come in of her own accord, but she had also taken _all_ of the extra sweets James had been hoping to save for later. She didn't even show a hint of gratitude toward them either! She didn't even introduce herself _or_ ask for their names! Even with having successfully stopped Sirius from speaking, it seemed like an even worse first impression had been formulated between themselves and the girl. Who ever she was, she was definitely a lot bolder than they had thought just by the look of her.

"Bloody… of all the rotten things—! She took _my_ beans!"

James merely shrugged as Sirius continued to swear loudly; the messy-haired boy already had his hands full trying to soothe Peter. The young blonde was crying his eyes out onto, what you used to be, James's dry pants. Even as he tried prying the hysterical little boy from his leg, Pettigrew just wouldn't let it go. The poor guy was taking all the misery out on his friend's good leg. With Sirius fuming and Peter bawling, James almost felt like throwing his hands up in the air and just joining in. Because of Sirius's pride and Peter's hysterical attitude—two extremes that shouldn't be put in the same group, mind you—James was _forced_ to be the level-headed one, and that was something the boy was just…_never_ good at.

"Pettigrew, relax," he strained, wincing at the sudden pressure that the blonde was exerting. "_Ouch_! Sirius, would you stop scheming and try to be of some assistance here, _please_…?"

"This wasn't _my_ doing," stated Sirius, pointedly. "Blame that—that—_that_—!"

James hit Sirius in the head with his free hand. "_Stop_, you'll regret finishing that sentence, mate."

"I highly doubt that, James," scowled the other, glaring harshly at the door of their compartment. "I ought to teach that—that—_that —_" He stopped mid-sentence upon seeing the look of disapproval on James's face. "—girl. That girl. I ought to take back what rightfully belongs to us."

It was safe to say that Sirius was the kind of guy who didn't like letting things go. James _also_ managed to deduce that the handsome chap was the kind of guy who liked to take his annoyance out on other things and not just on the problem at hand. The messy-haired boy had to be careful with what he said around Sirius… He had this remote feeling that if he said _anything_ out of the other's standards, Sirius would pounce and rebound his anger right at him. That sort of scenario was the type he really wanted to avoid right now.

"It's just candy," said James, finally, as he began to pet Peter's head. Young Pettigrew had finally stopped wailing, but his sobs were still rather loud. "We can buy more later—"

At this Sirius gave him the look. The very same look James had been hoping to avoid. "_Just_?" gapped the handsome chap, "_Just _candy? What do you mean _just_ candy? I even put my _name_ on that candy, and you can just say '_just_'…? Pettigrew understands the frustration I feel! That wasn't just candy. That was _our_ candy, James, _ours_."

James sighed. There was no use fighting back. With both Sirius and Pettigrew _both_ acting this way, there was no use trying to console either one. It was impossible. James was alone in this game, and the only light of reason of the trio. Two to one was never considered to be good odds to begin with.

Just as the last flicker of light had begun to fade, and just as James was about to succumb to their ever expanding frustration, there came yet _another_ knock on the door of their compartment. This time, however, whomever it was standing outside, didn't wait for anyone to open the door for them; instead the boy just peeked in to see what all the fuss was about. Stunned by the sudden entrance of the stranger, the three boys stopped what they were doing to look up. Strangely enough, a sudden wave of dejavu rushed over the lot as they realized who the boy was. _It's the mismatched-socks-lad_, thought James, inwardly, as he continued to stare up into the pale boy's face. The boy now wore what looked to be an off-colored black robe, and it appeared to be shorter than the length a robe was supposed to be. Because of its length, one could _clearly_ distinguish the spotted and stripped socks. _So, he's one Sirius was complaining about—_

"What?" snapped Sirius, eye twitching, as his dark eyes looked over the boy's attire in pure distaste. "Planning to steal our belongings now, _too_?"

James kicked Sirius in the shin, and the handsome chap immediately shut his mouth. The boy stared at Sirius, looking somewhat taken aback by the sudden accusation. He had good reason to be startled, and James couldn't blame him for it. The handsome chap's anger was spewing all over the place. Pettigrew, who had finally released himself from James's leg, looked absolutely horrified. The boy looked about ready to grab his things, get on his knees, and beg to spare his belongings.

"Forgive him," said James, apologetically, "He's in a bad mood at the moment… Err, how can we help you?"

The boy stood there for a few seconds, looking extremely awkward. "Right," he said, slowly, eyes looking from Sirius to Pettigrew. It didn't take long for any of them to notice the monotony of the boy's voice. "Well, people have been complaining about the wailing and shouting coming from this compartment so I was asked to—"

"So, you're accusing us of making a racket, that it?" asked Sirius, tone sharp.

"I haven't accused anyone. I just said—"

Peter backed Sirius up in a heartbeat. "But you implied it."

The boy seemed to frown at Pettigrew's back up. James looked between Pettigrew and Sirius and then up at the boy. Since when did the blonde and the black team up like this? This was a sight the messy-haired boy had not expected in a million years.

"Uh… We're sorry for disturbing you and your friends," interjected James, suddenly, trying his best to break the tension that had suddenly befallen them. "Uhm… We'll try to be a little more…_considerate_?"

At this, the boy's dark eyes left Sirius's to glance at James. "I should hope so," he said, simply, before turning to leave.

"H-Hold on!" cried the messy-haired boy, standing up. The boy turned his head to look back at James. "Didn't quite catch your name."

The boy seemed to flush slightly at hearing those words. He froze, looking as though he had never been personally asked before. He appeared, at least a little, flattered, though it wasn't that noticeable on such a sallow, pale face. Especially with the boy's shoulder-length, lanky hair; James probably wouldn't have caught the look had the boy not been facing them. "S-Snape," he said, awkwardly, "Severus Snape." And then turned and walked out into the hallway once more.

The minute the door had shut, Sirius stood up, red-in-the-face. "He didn't even ask for _our_ names! That bloody git!"

Pettigrew, trying to copy Sirius, stood up as well. He grunted rather pathetically and then crossed his arms. "Yeah!" he exclaimed, not really know how else to support the handsome chap.

James only shrugged back down into his seat. Two bad impressions, and two hysterical friends. The messy-haired boy almost felt like tearing the hair out of his scalp. He honestly had no idea what to do anymore.

"Hey," he began. James had already given up trying to convince Sirius to settle down, "At least I got his name for you."

Both Sirius and Pettigrew stopped their fuming to look down at James. Sirius looked the most confused out of the both of them, and he sat down to get a better look at James's hazel eyes through the other's round spectacles. The blonde, who had suddenly taken a liking to copying everything Sirius did, sat down as well.

"What's his name got to do with anything?"

James grinned, widely. "Seems you'll be able to teach him a thing or two about fashion this year," he finished, patting Sirius on the knee. "Good for you."

The handsome chap wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Not funny, mate. _Not._ Funny."

* * *

**To. Be. Continued.**

Lost Boys

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Puh-lease

Pretty please

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YAY xD


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Yay! 80 reviews! I'm sooo thrilled everyone :). Thanks for reviewing and reading thus far. I'll continue to update, so just keep waiting patiently. xD! I'm sorry for the long wait, I just got off summer school so I'm trying to push in as much time as I can into writing the rest of this fic. I have so many things planned :). I hope you'll look forward to it! Thanks for all the reviews everyone! It keeps me updating ^_~! Special thanks to Ethreal Euphoria for reading and telling me what sounds awkward and what doesn't. Go check her stories, people! Zonkers especially :). It's a real original treat for any HP fan.

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**Lost Boys**

In what seemed to be almost no time at all since Snape's rather bleak introduction, the Hogwarts Express began to slow down just as it trudged in the midst of a rather equally bleak-looking forest. James could just barely make out the the surroundings outside. The moon's light just barely reached them through the tall pine trees that surrounded the track. To get a better look, the messy-haired boy immediately jumped out of his seat, out the compartment door, and into the corridor. He felt no hard feelings parting with Sirius or Peter seeing as the two were already in deep conversation about something that James wasn't entirely into, or perhaps it was because he had already known about it some time ago? Something about basilisks? Or was it bathroom silks? Maybe dungbomb stinks…? He got lost half way through, and chose not to interrupt his friends' very rare bonding hour. Despite his courtesy, however, it wasn't long before the two wandered out after him. Unfortunately for the messy-haired boy, they brought the conversation along with them as they came.

"What do you think of the possibility of merpeople, mate?" inquired Sirius, tapping James on the shoulder. The handsome chap had been the first to notice the missing third of their trio. "Rumor has it that—"

"Sorry!"

Someone bumped into him, but he managed to recover almost instantaneously. Straightening himself, he glanced down at the one who had rudely interrupted him, but didn't have the heart to scold the innocent bystander that moment he realized exactly _why_ he had bumped into him. The once empty corridor was now bustling with students, each hoping to get a glimpse of the dim view outside. There were so many students that people had begun to push and shove just to get to the window. Before Sirius could even reply anything, the person who had bumped into him had been lost in the crowd once more, maybe bumping into more people as he went along. The corridor had gotten a lot noisier now, and although James and Peter weren't complaining the growing level of loudness, Sirius was beginning to feel his eye twitch with irritation. Just as he was about to tell his friends he was going to turn into their compartment, however, James cut him short once more.

"We're here," he interrupted. James could just barely make out the contours of the forest through the dim light of the moon. They weren't the only students out and about the train now; James could gander that a majority of the people standing with their hands against the windows boggling at the sights outside were first years too. It was slightly unnerving to see so many kids his age. "By the look of this place, I'd say we're already in the Forbidden Forest."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice echoed throughout the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

"I guess that clears up all speculation," muttered Sirius, of who had still been mumbling profanities at being interrupted, under his breath merely seconds ago. "Forbidden Forest it is, mate." At this, he finally noticed Peter who had been twiddling his thumbs just behind them, staring down at his feet. "What's the matter? Did you get a load of the view yet, Pettigrew?"

Unbeknown to them until that very moment, young Peter Pettigrew had, in fact, been _trying_ to get a good view of the scenery outside. Sadly, due to the blonde's stout height and stature and the fact that so many people were now gathered about the hallway now, it was almost impossible for him to even sneak a peak out the corridor window. Upon seeing their friend's predicament, Sirius uncrossed his arms and moved his way passed a few students who had been hogging the window view nearest James. With a mere swing of his right arm and a light flick of his wrist, it seemed like the entire crowd of students beckoned to his very desire and moved away to find another window. James blinked twice, trying to make out what had just happened: _Is the Black family really _that_ powerful?_ Ever since meeting Sirius, the messy-haired boy had begun to rethink his whole perspective of life.

Thankfully, just before James had begun to reassemble his place in the world, the Hogwart's Express finally came to a halt and the rushing sound of steam resonated outside. The minute the _hush_ing sound of the train died down, the voices of multitudes of students rose up in pure excitement. The noise Sirius had already been irritated with had gone from high to dangerously high. James couldn't help but grin as the handsome chap plugged both ears with his index fingers. Clanging, banging, screaming, and shouting could be heard throughout the Express. Everyone was so excited to get onto the platform.

With so many people coming through the narrow corridor, it was nearly impossible for any of the three boys to try and counter the flow of the oncoming crowd. James made a mental note: Coming out into the corridor was the worst idea he had ever made. He was going to make sure to never ever make the same mistake again. The overflow of people coming out of their compartments to meet the cool breeze of the outdoors was too much for even Sirius to try and calm. Without much of a choice, the three of them eventually followed the current and stumbled their way out into the cool night air and onto the platform.

"_See,_" scathed Sirius, eying the lines of people still coming out. "I told you the world was against us. I don't think _any_ of our belongings are safe in there…"

James put a hand to his forehead and shrugged. It wasn't like Sirius had really _meant_ what he said, in actuality, if anything, he was just trying to be a bit sarcastic. Sarcasm, however, doesn't always go over well with some people, and that was what James was shrugging about. He was completely okay with the handsome chap's strange sarcasm, but Pettigrew just wasn't at that age to understand _what_ sarcasm was yet. The blonde's panicked reaction to Sirius was to be predicted.

"They're n-not going to take all our stuff, are they…?" hesitated the blonde, eying their compartment window. "I don't know what I'd do if they took Juby…"

Sirius's left eyebrow cocked upward, though the angles of his mouth curved in the opposite direction. "_Juby_?" he repeated, looking somewhat disturbed.

Just the mere mention of that word was enough to claim _anyone's_ interest. Even James, whose mind seemed to have wandered for a while, found great curiosity in learning exactly what, or even _who_, this Juby person was. It wasn't that hard to come up with at least a vague idea of what it was, after all, who would name a guy 'Juby', right? And plus, Pettigrew seemed to be staring at the very compartment they had been traveling in for the past couple hours with no 'Juby' in sight. So, the two boys mentally deduced (almost simultaneously) that Juby was either a pet, or an inanimate object that the blonde shared his many guilty pleasures with, of which he had hidden in his trunk.

Almost as soon as James and Sirius deduced these possibilities, the realization of it all finally dawned on Pettigrew. The blonde had slipped up. His loud mouth had finally let slip the secret that he felt he would regret for his entire first year at Hogwarts. He had exposed a personal secret that even his mother had specifically told him not to tell _anyone_ about. Peter remembered his insanely girly infatuation, and his usual pale skin turned a bright shade of red as he stared, horrified, back at the two. The thoughts of 'they'll hate me!' and 'never speak to me! Never!' ran through his mind like scrolling text on hyper drive.

"So," chimed Sirius, all sarcasm and irritation gone from his ever-so-heavenly voice, "who's Juby?"

Pettigrew squirmed slightly and accidentally bumped into an older-looking witch clambering passed them. He didn't even apologize, rather, his usual nodding head was now shaking nervously right and left, ignoring the people passing around him. He bit his lower lip and hid part of his face with his hands.

"What? You can't even tell your best mates?" asked James, curiosity taking full control of his sympathetic drive. "It can't be _that_ bad."

"You have to promise not to hate me if I tell you!" squeaked Pettigrew, shaking fervently.

"Why would we hate you?"

"Just promise!"

"Oh, just get _on_ with it already, will you?"

Peter sent a rather unsettling, un-Pettigrew-like glare right back at Sirius. It was so unlike him that the handsome chap actually stumbled backwards. The look didn't fit the blonde at all. It was like transfiguring a right toe to where a one's nose should be. It was _that_ unnatural. James actually had to turn away to hide his muffled laughter.

"_Fine_," grumbled Sirius, "We promise…" There seemed to be a slight pause of silence before he finished his sentence with: "…so are you willing to tell us or not?"

"But you're going to laugh at me…"

Sirius threw his hands in the air, "Come _on_, lad! It can't be that ba—!"

"Shezamagicoporcelaindoll!"

James and Sirius exchanged glances.

"Uhm… Can you slow that down just a tad?"

The poor boy squinted his eyes, took a deep breath, and then, almost literally shouted it out so loud that everyone passing by could hear him: "SHE'S. A. MAGICO. PORCELAIN. DOLL."

The two boys blinked, allowing the words to form one complete sentence before allowing it to sink in. Several students who were passing by gave the three of them puzzled looks before proceeding toward their general destinations. In all honesty, the two had been expecting something a bit more earth shattering. A doll was the very least of their concerns. Sure, Magico's Porcelain Dolls were some of the freakiest inanimate objects (or so they say) created by your typical wizard, but for some reason the two weren't even _moved_ to want to hate Pettigrew. _Would those things really be considered inanimate?_ Thought James suddenly, thinking back on the first time he encountered one during his childhood. It wasn't a good first impression; most children _never_ had good experiences with the moving porcelain doll. Whoever this Magico-guy was that created these magically motorized moving dolls was a complete sadist. James had come to his conclusion. He shuddered at the thought of the memory that had scarred him for life.

"You're never speaking to me again…" murmured Pettigrew, eyes beginning to tear up.

Amazingly enough, it was Sirius who talked sense into the blonde: "Of course we're going to talk to you, mate. It's just a doll… No big deal, right, James?"

James nodded his head, a large smile spreading across his face as he watch Sirius comfort Peter.

It was a little strange to see the handsome chap actually doing something other than insulting or teasing the said blackmail material. It was something that no one would have expected from someone bearing Black family insignia. Even though the messy-haired boy was never that stereotypical about people carrying the Black name, he had never imagined seeing a prospective Slytherin help someone out or speak kindly like this. From what he read from books and the stories he'd heard from his parents, Slytherins were supposed to be excessively proud (mental check), ruthless (half mental check), cunning (another mental check), deceptive, and power hungry. He had two and a half out of five. Not good odds for a prospective Slytherin. Slytherins normally had _all_ of those traits. James never liked the idea that his friends would end up in a different Houses. They would be opposing each other! They'd consider each other rivals, and in the worst case scenario, they'd end up mortal enemies by the time they graduated! Sirius, himself, had told them that he was going to end up in Slytherin because of his background. It didn't settle well with him. He didn't like it at all. _So what does family background have to do with anything, anyway...? Why can't we just decide for ourselves?_

"Mates," he said, feeling a bit disheartened by the thoughts that rushed through his mind. "About the sorting later… You think—?"

Sirius put a hand on his shoulder. "No matter how it turns out, I'll put you first, James. We're still friends," he said this with such confidence that James couldn't help by smirk. The handsome chap, patted Pettigrew on the head and finished, "Just letting you know before you all start cryin' on me."

"I want us all to be in the same House!" shouted Pettigrew, smiling.

"Fine speech," laughed James, "You won't be getting an award for it though. I don't know what you're goin' on about... We're all going to the same House, after all."

Sirius's smile faltered slightly, "I wish—"

"'Ey! Firs' years! Firs' years this way!" exclaimed a rather booming voice from the far end of the platform. At first glance, Pettigrew was the only one of the lot whose eyes enlarged at the sight of the man calling out. He may have been standing at the opposite end of the platform, but he was clearly seen from where they stood. The man stood much taller than anyone who swarmed passed him. He looked _enormous_.

"I think that's Hagrid," said Sirius, nudging Pettigrew in the arm. "I highly _doubt_ he'd hurt anyone. My parents don't like him much, so I'm assuming, he must be quite the considerate chap. May not look it, but surely we'll find out soon enough."

James, too, had heard a thing or two about Hagrid from his parents and even from books he read about Hogwarts over the years. It was amazing to actually see the guy in person. He had so many things he wanted to see for himself, so many things he wanted to learn! He had his whole life ahead of him, and he was willing to share all of his present knowledge with his fellow companions.

Just as he was about to interject some random fun fact about Hagrid to the two chattering in front of him, someone knocked right into his left shoulder. James stumbled sidewards, almost knocking into yet another student. Stunned, he spun his head in the direction of the culprit. _Not even an apology? No curt response? Nothing? What kind of school is this?_ Spinning around actually stunned him even more for the very person who had bumped him was the very same girl who had taken the liberty of taking _all_ of their treats off the Hogwarts Express just a few hours ago.

"Watch it!" he cried toward the girl. And when she didn't even glance over her shoulder, James sped right after her; mind you, in the completely opposite direction of where Hagrid was directing the first years to go. "Hey! Wait—"

Before James could even realize it, he was following right behind her, off the platform, and in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. She appeared to be heading in a totally different direction compared to the rest of the student body. The first years were getting rounded up by Hagrid for a possible orientation, while the higher years were heading in an opposite direction which would, no doubt, take them to Hogwarts directly. _This _girl, however, seemed to be walking down her own path straight into the heart of the Forbidden Forest. It didn't take long before James's curiosity blinded his original intentions. He, at first, sought justice for being pushed aside without a simple sorry, but the direction she headed and the possibility that she was up to something that no one else knew about intrigued him more.

For a girl, she had really fast legs. She moved a _lot_ faster than it looked like she was actually walking.

_Where in the world is she going?_ Was one of the first questions that came to his head, but the moment he heard Sirius and Peter's shouts from not too far behind, he began thinking: _Wait a second, where in all the Wizarding World am _I_ going?_ He had been too caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't entirely realized the danger he had put himself and his friends in. How long had he been running? How deep were they into the Forest…? Just what in the world did he just get himself into? Also, what was he thinking! By this time, he completely lost track of the real reason why he had been running after her to begin with. At this thought, he eventually slowed his pace to a walk and then, finally, stopped in his tracks. He was at a loss of what should be done. Not only that, but he had _also_ lost complete sight of the girl too.

"James!" gasped Sirius, the first to catch up with the messy-haired boy when he had come to a stop. He bent over to trying to keep his respiration rate under control. "What…the blood _hell_…"

James turned around in time to see Peter finally catch up with them. His short legs could only move so fast. The poor boy seemed the most tuckered out of the lot. He collapsed, red-in-the-face and chest heaving up and down as he lay on the moist forest floor. He was much too exhausted to even allow any syllable other than 'ha' escape his lips.

"Hey, mates," said James, absentmindedly.

"Just 'hey, mates'_. That's_ all you're going to say?" grumbled Sirius, sighing. "We've been shouting your name since you left us back there. What in the world were you thinking—? Do you _know_ where we are right now?"

"'Course I do. It's the Forbidden Forest," he replied, simply, like it was most natural thing in the world. "I'm not _that_ thick, mate. It's not like I ran in here just 'cuz I felt like it, what type of person do you take me for…? It was that girl—! She bumped into me, and didn't even apologize. Hit me rather hard, actually. I think I'll bruise in the morning…"

Sirius cast James a dark look, obviously not convinced by the other's explanation. "Before I comment on the latter part, I'd like to point out that, actually," he began, "You _are_ the type to run into a place like this just cause you feel like it, James. Shall I refresh your memory? Remember Diagon Alley…?"

James rubbed the back of his neck; a sort of awkward laugh seemed to escape his teeth.

"Now, about the latter part. You just complained about getting bruised by a constituent of the opposite gender, James," Sirius crossed his arms, a sly smirk sliding across his face. "How can I put this lightly…? Hmm… Let me see… Nope. Sorry. It's impossible to put this any other way: You, mate, are a complete pansy."

"Why, thank you," James responded, sarcastically. "No one said you had to follow me you know, if you were scared..."

Sirius frowned. "Who said anything about being scared? Worried, what kind of stupid thing you were getting yourself into by yourself? Yes. Scared, because of the darkness, horror stories, and the fact that we may, indeed, find ourselves lost? _Definitely_ not."

James looked up at the trees that surrounded them. "Anyway, don't fret, mates, I assure you, we're not lost."

"So, basically, you're saying we _are_ lost."

"No… I just said we're _not_. Come'_on_. Where's your sense of adventure?"

It was this conversation that caused young Peter to scamper up from his laying position and onto his feet. "We're lost!" he sobbed, clinging to the one nearest him—Sirius. "Lost! Help! Someone'll save us, right, Black?"

Sirius frowned. "Doubt it."

It was obvious to anyone that Sirius was no longer in his comforting state of mind. In fact, he was in quite the opposite. He was tormenting the youngest of them into pure hysteria once more. James couldn't help but shrug his shoulders and roll his eyes. It was only a matter of time before the handsome chap's Black blood would resurface. Ignoring the remarks and sobs of the two, James inspected the area thoroughly—looking for at least a sign that would tell them where they were now.

"I-I'm too young!" cried Pettigrew, still clinging. "I'm too young to die!"

"Oh, _relax_. You're not going to die."

The young blonde looked up at Sirius with hope in his beady eyes. "Really…? Are you sure?"

"Not yet anyway."

This sent Peter into an even louder frenzy of wailing. It was so loud, Sirius had to cover his ears. He was so sure his eardrums would explode. The blonde was just about to produce the largest amount of water works ever made possible right into the handsome chap's robes when James suddenly whipped out his wand and gave the two a rather obvious signal that meant both 'sshhhh!' and 'listen!' at the very same time.

"What—?"

"Shh! Did you hear that?" said James in a low voice.

"I didn't hear anythi—"

"_Shh_!"

Pettigrew tightened his grip around Sirius's robe as his wide eyes ogled into the darkness around them. James's word had startled the blonde, and he was quick to shut his mouth. Sirius, too, looked around the place suspiciously while his free hand groped the wand in his pocket. He appeared a bit skeptical of James's seriousness, but figured that 'better safe than sorry' could actually apply in this situation. They _were_ in the Forbidden Forest after all and they didn't just call the forest 'forbidden' for no reason. Both James and Sirius were familiar with all the haunting stories that seemed to gain life from these grounds.

For what seemed like a painstakingly long time, dead silence filled the cool air that hung around them. Nothing moved. Not even a breeze could be felt. They had no idea how much time passed as they stood there… and then, after a long moment of stalemate something rustled in some of the brushes nearby. Due to the silence hanging in the area the sound somehow resonated throughout the area, echoing as if it the rustling was coming from all sides. It was extremely hard to tell where it had really come from. Both James and Sirius were on high alert.

Pettigrew was the only one who couldn't take it anymore.

With the loudest scream he had ever produced, Pettigrew took off in a relatively eastern direction. It would have been fine had the blonde scrambled away by himself; his two friends would not only have chased after him without a second a thought, _but _they'd also be able to back him up if something were to jump out at them as they ran. But, unfortunately, that wasn't what happened. James went solo in playing bodyguard, especially since he watched as Peter dragged Sirius with him out of the area in that relatively eastern direction. Sirius was so discombobulated at being dragged against his will, that even with his wand whipped out, he wouldn't have a very good shot at hitting much of anything. Luckily, however, James was pretty good on his feet, and was able to keep up to pace with his two friends. The blonde's top speed wasn't all that fast anyway.

"Pettigrew!" shouted Sirius, trying to pry himself out of the blonde's death grip. "Let _go_!"

And boy, did Peter follow Sirius's instructions to a tee. After only a few moments, the boy made a rather abrupt halt. It was so abrupt that the handsome chap was actually flung forward, out of Peter's grasp, and toward the floor. _SPLASH!_ James, who had been following close behind, was able to come to rather progressive stop just behind Pettigrew. From what he saw, Sirius's fall wasn't the most graceful landing he had ever made, but it was a landing nonetheless: an extremely _painful_ landing, at that. For poor Sirius had not landed on the soft, moist forest floor they had been trudging through all this time… Instead, he had landed face first onto a beach of hard stone cobbles that were half submerged in water. James had to control himself from pointing and laughing as Sirius begrudgingly got to his feet again, with his good cloak drenched from the waist up.

The boys had stumbled upon an enormous lake. Although the water was a rather surprising geographical finding for the three boys, it was the very least of Pettigrew's worries. His eyes were as round as saucers, staring at almost a 60-degree angle from the lake before them.

"C-C-Ca-Castle… I-I-I-It's a…" he stuttered, pointing at something from across the lake. His tiny, stubby-looking hand appeared to be quivering.

The boy's incoherent words weren't completely understood until they had seen for themselves what he was pointing at. Just as young Pettigrew had stuttered, what lay across the lake before them, perched high on what looked to be a gigantic cliff, was indeed an enormous-looking castle. Had the lot not been of the Wizarding sort or had they merely been weary travelers, a chill would have certainly crept down their backs by now. The castle was, by all means, far from what one would either call eloquent or homey-looking. The structure had a sort of mysterious, and yet curious sense about it. It was a spectacular, breath-taking, and brilliant sight all put together. The lake clearing had allowed the area full access to the the star-filled sky. It looked much more fantastic here compared to back at James's house. What took their breath away weren't just the castle and the stars, but the moon as well. It was a bright waning gibbous, smiling over the castle. They had never seen a moon that big before. It had been full only a few days before; James couldn't help but wish that it had been a full moon that night. It would have made the scene _perfect_.

For a moment, no one spoke.

"James," whispered Sirius, breaking the stillness, "I bet you twelve sickles that that's Hogwarts."

James cast a rather amused look back at the handsome chap. _Blimey, you think mate? I would have never guessed._

After taking in the first glimpse of their soon-to-be second home in the distance, it was easy to figure how rapidly their imaginations began to wander. The lot even forgot what kind of situation they were still in as they continued to marvel at the enormous fortress. The Forbidden Forest seemed like just a distant dream to them now. For all they knew, the three could have just sat on that rocky beach and just gazed for hours; it wouldn't have mattered. It was a perfect moment: A memory that they'd be sure never to forget.

"Hey," wondered Peter, suddenly. His beady eyes had just noticed a few tiny lights flicker to life not far along the beach as them. "What do you suppose those are?"

The two other boys looked in the direction young Pettigrew directed, and indeed saw something quite peculiar: Licks of flame hovering just above the murky waters. Although the moon's luminosity was enough for them to make out enough of their surroundings, the mysterious flames that were lighting up one by one stumped them completely. It wasn't until a voice rose up above the stillness that they lot realized exactly what was happening, and exactly what they had missed out on since stumbling into the Forbidden Forest.

"No more'n four to a boat!" bellowed Hagrid to the surrounding first years. "Righ'. Everyone in!"

Hagrid's voice was loud enough to be heard even at their distance. Without even a moment's hesitation, James dashed toward the flickering lights, careful not to trip over any loose cobbles. Sirius has to slap Pettigrew in the side of the head before they could chase after their messy-haired friend down the stretch of beach.

"W-_Wait_," panted Pettigrew, looking like he was about to cry again.

Sirius, who had been keeping in pace with the young blond, shrugged lightly at noticing the blonde's decrease in speed. It didn't take long until the both of them had slowed to a slow walk, allowing James to speed ahead without them. Of course, this wasn't the messy-haired boy's intention, but he had to do _something_ to warn Hagrid that there were still three other first years out and about. He half wondered if the huge man had some sort of attendance list to check, but instantly retracted that thought upon seeing Hagrid get into one of the tiny boats himself as soon as all the other first years had climbed in.

"Hey!" cried the messy-haired boy, suddenly increasing his velocity. "_Hang on_—!"

It seemed as though luck just wasn't on their side that night. Just as he was about to run the last stretch of beach to reach the docks, he was forced to halt in his tracks. Before him, blocking their only way to get to Hagrid was a rather wide river that no doubt connected the lake to some an ocean somewhere. James had a half mind to wade into the river, but was quick to note the current and the possible depth. There was no way he'd be able to get across in time to stop Hagrid and the other students—_Plus, I'd be drenched and a laughing-stalk to all of my future classmates._ He figured it wasn't worth it. If only he had paid more attention to those element-bending spells back home instead of constantly looking over those prank spells!

"Mate!" shouted Sirius from somewhere behind. "James!"

From the mere faintness of the handsome chap's voice, James could tell that his friends were still far behind. This thought puzzled him. Shouldn't they have caught up to him by now? Sure, they were walking, but James hadn't gone _that_ far of a distance. Curious, the messy-haired boy looked back to where two mates were standing, and sure enough, they were still quite a ways away. Even curious-er, however, was the fact that neither of them seemed to running towards him. In fact, they seemed to be calling him _toward_ them.

"What?" he called back, feeling slightly unwilling to run again. "Something wrong?"

"No!" cried Pettigrew, this time, his tiny dark figure in the distance seemed to be jumping up and down and waving his arms. "We found something!"

Frowning and feeling a wee bit reluctant, James gave up on the river and headed back the way he came. It took only a few moments before the he arrived to meet them at the edge of the beach. He arrived to see Pettigrew holding Sirius's cape, while Sirius waded, knee deep, in the lake beside what appeared to be a small boat with a lantern hanging from the head. It was the same as boats they had seen Hagrid and the others climb into.

"Why's this _here…_?" he questioned, looking up at the other boats.

"Forget that, mate," griped Sirius, pulling the boat onto the rocky beach. Seeing that the handsome chap was having a rather difficult time pulling the boat in, James set in to helping. He didn't even mind getting his feet and the hem of his cloak wet. "Just get in!" The moment he cried this, the boat was finally up on the beach enough for the three of them to climb aboard without any chance of it tipping over.

James wiped a bit of sweat off his brow before turning to Peter. "In you go, Pettigrew. You first," he stated, patting Sirius on the back. "Nicely done, Sirius."

Sirius smirked. "Of course. Just proving to you how adventurous I can be, mate."

James couldn't help but laugh. "Proved me wrong, alright."

Pettigrew whimpered lightly at being hoisted up in the air, but cooperated when both Sirius and James helped him settle in. James was the second to hop up, leaving Sirius to be the one to push the boat afloat onto the glassy waters of the lake again. Despite being the heir to the Black name, Sirius seemed to be a lot more dependable than the rumors generalized. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty if the need be—James felt a pang of guilt upon remembering that _he_ had not been willing enough to wade into the river.

Sirius had to swing himself into the boat as he pushed it into the water again. This motion actually caused the tiny thing to wobble terribly (causing Peter to cling severely to James's hair), but it didn't capsize. For a few brief moments it continued to wobble, but it eventually calmed and moved peacefully with the gentle waves. The lot sighed with relief and positioned themselves into a row, with Pettigrew at the head.

"So these lanterns were those flickering lights we saw?" questioned Peter, looking back at the one seated directly behind him—James. The messy-haired boy merely nodded his head, only further intensifying the blonde's curiosity.

"How'd you come across the boat? Oh!" questioned the messy-haired boy. The moment he spoke the lantern magically flickered to life. "It lit up. Magically enchanted these boats are… I'm sure you've read about them too, Sirius?"

"I read about them at your place, remember?" Sirius shrugged. "I don't know how I came across it. It was tied to one of the trees. Had Pettigrew not tripped on the invisible rope I wouldn't have seen it… It took quite a bit of effort to cut too."

James glanced back at Sirius, face up in wonder. "Invisible? You're saying it was hidden?"

Sirius merely nodded his head. "Hidden _and _charmed. Had to use my father's pocketknife to cut it—that old thing's enchanted to cut through _anything _under a spell. Pretty useless when it comes to normal objects, though."

"And… exactly _why_ do you have your father's pocketknife on you?" mused James, crossing his arms. Pettigrew also turned around to get a look at Black his interest peaked. "Not planning anything are yeh?"

The handsome chap crossed his arms, expression quite unreadable. "Come, now, mate. The Black Family's had a history of kidnapped children for ransom. Better safe than sorry, wouldn't you say? Me dad's not going to miss it anyway—doubt he even realized it's gone!"

Peter nodded quite understandably, but James wasn't all too sure whether or not Sirius was telling the truth about the matter.

"_Anyway,_ as I was saying," continued Sirius, "This boat was probably meant for someone else… Question is why and more importantly, for _who_—?"

"Tha' everyone?" shouted scruffy voice, cutting Sirius off completely. It no doubt belonged to Hagrid. "Right then – FORWARD!"

At Hagrid's command, the boats, including the one the three lost boys were now stationed upon, all moved at once in the direction of the great Castle in the distance. The distant chattering that had been heard only moments ago died down completely as the little boats glided effortlessly across the water. It were as though all the students had been suddenly enchanted to keep their mouths shut. It must have been the majestic Hogwarts castle that literally towered over them that silenced them. Even the three boys were caught up in the view that they barely even noticed when their boat came into Hagrid's view.

"Oh! An' here come our special… er—?" Hagrid stopped mid-sentence the moment he caught glimpse of the three heading their way. He laughed awkwardly, "…Y-Yeh brough' _friends_, did yeh? Dumbledore said nuthin' 'bout— Oh… Not tha' I meant anythin' wrong by that, yeh know… Jus' tha' dey said tha' you'd be alone and I—"

It took the boys about half way through Hagrid's speech to realize that the big man was actually talking to them. And even when they tried to comprehend what Hagrid was saying to them, nothing seemed to click. They just stared, blankly, back at the lone man in the boat as they came towards a cliff draped with long curtains of ivy.

"Watch out!" shouted James, suddenly. His warning had come too late though, as a few of the vines swopped Hagrid in the face.

"Oh, tha' ain't good," remarked Hagrid, as his boat reached the hanging curtain of ivy first. He had been so caught up with the three boys that he wasn't paying any attention. "Heads down! Heads down unless you want to be sent to the infirmary on your first day!" He slapped his right cheek as if a fly had annoyingly landed there. It was evident to everyone the poor man would be the only one in the infirmary that night.

James had to forcefully push Pettigrew forward as their boat slid under the draping curtains of poisonous leaves. The young blonde had been gapping up at the cliff that he hadn't heard a single thing Hagrid has said. As soon as the ivy was cleared, the fleet of boats turned into what appeared to be a hidden tunnel at the foot of the cliff. The way they were heading, it seemed like they were going to pass right underneath Hogwarts. There were only a few moments of darkness as they glided through the tunnel before a faint light was spotted at the far end of it. A sort of underground harbor strewn with rocks and pebbles laid waiting for them.

Several of the other students in some nearby boats ogled at the three strange boys that had come to join their little fleet from out of nowhere. The silence was suddenly diminished and soon enough almost all the first years were chatting amongst themselves in hushed whispers about the three mysterious boys that arrived from the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was the first to stumbled out of his tiny boat and onto the rocks. Everyone else followed suit, and clambered out onto the harbor. Once on dry land, the stragglers and early birds slowly followed him up a passageway in the rocks, which eventually led to an open, grassy area in the shadow of the Hogwarts castle. It was most evident that Hagrid was having a hard time concentrating on walking straight… His face must have itched so terribly that he began using the walking stick he had been carrying along with him as a scratcher.

"Mr. Hagrid, sir," said a red-haired girl, whom James recognized almost immediately to be Evans, Lily. "Will you be alright…? Your face is swelling up really bad…"

Several surrounding students chuckled amongst themselves, and Lily seemed appear quite cross with their insensitivity. No one seemed to notice her fierce glares when they caught eye contact with her though. In pure desperation she shot a pleading look back at the one whom she had been conversing with since they departed from Platform 9¾. Snape, Severus, still mismatched and gloomy-looking since they last saw him, stood right next her, furrowing his brows at her silent pleas. He looked pretty stumped with how she wanted him to go about fixing the problem.

Despite Evan's desire for justice, Hagrid merely muffled his reply, something to the effect of 'nuthin' to worry 'bout', 'happens all the time', and that he was 'used to it', and continued leading the troop of first years toward a flight of stone steps at the foot of a huge, oak front door.

"Mmmph mmsh?" mumbled Hagrid through squinted, puffy eyes.

The students looked around at each other and frowned. As if they could understand a single word he said!

"I believe he's asking if everyone's here," stated Evans, crossing her arms. Snape had a look of pure concern on his face now; from what James could tell, it seemed like the Evans girl was now ignoring him too. "So? _Are_ we all here or not?"

Sirius smirked, nudging James in the arm. "Get a load of this girl and her know-it-all attitude... What's she trying to do? Make enemies the first day of school? It's pure suicide, mate. Think we can divert the student body's attention away from that attention hog? Her tone's beginning to irritating me…"

The messy-haired boy could only shrug. "Best not to go there, mate. Let me handle it," At this he patted Sirius on the shoulder, walked right passed Evans and up the stairs toward the huge, oak doorway that Hagrid had intended them to go toward. "You don't suppose you mind me doing the honors, Hagrid?" he inquired looking down toward the crowd below him. All the negative attention that had been on Evans just a few seconds ago was now immediately transferred and converted to some rather amused attention towards the messy-haired boy. Sirius crossed his arms and shook his head, grinning widely. James was an attention hog, and Sirius knew that all too well. Pettigrew's eyes seemed to sparkle at James's bravery.

"What do you think you're doing?" called Evans, frowning. "I doubt Hagrid would—"

"He's dead!" cried someone from the crowd.

Just as the redhead said this, Hagrid doubled over and passed out on the stone steps. It was a spectacle that none of the three lost boys could have foreseen. The large man seemed so together; a little too together for him to pass out so easily. All the first years stared wide-eyed, not knowing how to react. Even Sirius and Peter were shocked enough that they forgot how to breathe. Evans looked even paler than a piece of parchment, and had it not been for the current predicament, surely the student body would have laughed at her.

"Someone call for help!"

James, being the closest one to the door immediately knocked upon it three consecutive times (just like in his mother's bed time stories) and waited for it to swing open. And sure enough, after what seemed like two painstakingly long seconds, it finally did.

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**:: COMING SOON ::**

**Blood Relations  
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